


Tethered

by merlinus_ambrosius



Series: Fabled Spoils [1]
Category: Prospect (2018)
Genre: Age Difference, Cee Is an Adult, Comfort, Ezra Is Not Cee’s Dad and Cee Is Not Ezra’s Daughter, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Insomnia, Prospect Is a Whump Fic and This Fluff Is the Antidote, Red String of Fate, Trust, fluff with a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 27,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24054853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlinus_ambrosius/pseuds/merlinus_ambrosius
Summary: Ten years after the Green, fate brings Cee and Ezra together again.
Relationships: Cee & Ezra, Cee/Ezra, Ezra & Cee, Ezra/Cee
Series: Fabled Spoils [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820116
Comments: 173
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> People often think Cee got a “dad upgrade” in _Prospect,_ but I am not one of their number. To me, Cee’s arc is about moving out from under her father’s domination and into her own independence. The fact that Ezra is an older man is more about the kind of hurdle Cee needs to overcome in her mind as part of her coming-of-age story. I think the movie makes a point that Ezra, particularly, doesn’t think of Cee in a familial light, but rather as a cohort of sorts—when the merc refers to Cee as “your girl,” Ezra calls her “my partner.” And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that for the last two minutes of the movie Cee and Ezra go to their salvation literally shoulder to shoulder, as equals. The “even split” terms of their deal turn out to be truer than either realizes. In this essay I will…
> 
> …just write a story about two people—two adults—whose destinies are intertwined. 😉  
>   
> The title of this story was inspired by the track by the same name in the _Prospect_ OST.  
> 

  


The alarm went off with its little tinny beeps, but Cee didn’t need it. She hadn’t needed an alarm in ages. You didn’t when you woke up every morning four hours before the time the alarm was set for. After lying in bed for hours trying to get to sleep. Nevertheless, she clicked the alarm off and rolled out of bed to get ready for her workday.

After she went through the motions of showering and dressing, she picked up her briefcase by the door, as well as her suitcase, then ran the scan to lock her apartment. She wouldn’t be back for ten days, at least, but there was no one she had to tell.

She stifled a yawn as she bounced along in the ConVe and it deposited her in the plaza in front of her workplace. A little smile surfaced as she looked up at the windows of the suite where her business was, third floor. Her share of the aurelac had secured the lease, as well as her apartment and the freedom from her father’s loans. But she had made the business of eleven employees prosper herself, in a way that teenage Cee could only have dreamed of.

Her assistant greeted her inside the lift door, handing her the latest figures as well as the logistics and connections for her trip. “I know you like to arrange for your own lodging, so I didn’t reserve anything,” he said, looking slightly anxious. “But I did make a listing of the recommended businesses on the last page.”

“Good work, Glin,” she said. “Have you heard anything more about the tremors making the Sector Eight travel iffy? No word from our client on that?”

Glin shook his head. 

“Well, I'll see what’s what when I get to Blaven V,” she said. “Anything else I should know?”

Glin hesitated. “Only Sigme’s nameday today. Party in the conference room.”

“Oh no,” she said. “I must have missed the memo. Do you think you could get her something…?”

“No, no, I already did,” Glin said. “I meant just to remind you, if…if you wanted to come.”

“Oh. No. No, I should go, I think, with the possibility for glitches in Sector Eight. In fact, I think I’ll take the Sector Ten run even though it’s longer.”

“Of course. Good luck, ma’am! Have a creamy holiday too!”  


  
  


_Ma’am,_ Cee thought, as she trekked back outside and hailed a ConVe. Glin was no more than three years younger than she was. But he seemed like a baby, and she probably seemed like an old woman to him.  


  
  


Cee settled back into the seat of the Sector Ten jumper and let out a deep sigh. After the meeting with the potential client later in the day, she would be on her own for ten days, at the very least. She had no destination planned, no reservations set. She could do whatever she wanted, within reason.

It felt a little like being a floater again. Except there was a place to come back to, if she wanted. 

She wasn’t sure she wanted.

She wasn’t sure _what_ she wanted.  


  
  
  


Cee sat in the rented office on Blaven V and waited for the client, but no message came, and no client. She tried not to be irritated because she knew both travel and coms from Sector Eight were affected by the tremors and radiation flares. It had probably been a bad idea to even try to arrange this meeting, but it had seemed worth a try when so many areas in Sector Eight were unreached.

Oh well. Time to start her holiday.

She stood and looked around the office once more. It was an automated setup with a day-long lease, and it had both a bathroom and a sofa and table on either end of the suite. If she didn’t feel like looking for lodging, this place would do the trick for tonight, since she probably wouldn’t sleep anyway. It would work until she could figure out what she was doing with her time off. Other than rethinking her life. 

She left her briefcase and suitcase locked in the office and went out in search of food.

She didn’t frequent bars very much, mostly because she had a healthy fear of turning into her father. But tonight sitting in a bar would fit her mood.

It had begun to rain, so she picked the closest one and stepped inside the doorway before shedding her sopping new overcoat and hanging it on a convenient peg. She paused to look around the dim interior.

It was a decent-looking place, pretty much Upper Crust. The kind of place, ten years ago, she’d never have dreamed of trying to enter. A few patrons were scattered at the tables, but most were seated at the far end of the bar, closest to a large screen projecting some sort of sport. Only one person occupied the side closest to her, so she chose that side.

She had settled onto the stool and even begun to peruse the menu the bartender had handed her when she noticed the man near her. 

_Here?_

She sat frozen for a few moments as long-stuffed feelings bubbled to the surface. She tamped them down, and let only the good ones seep to the top.  


  
  


She stood up and walked over, following the invisible cord between them. She sat down on the stool on his left side. He still didn’t look up from his drink, so she put a hand on his arm. His one arm.

He turned his head then and looked at her blankly before his face changed. He sat up straight, his eyebrows rising. “Why, Cee!”

“Hello,” she managed to say, while a smile she couldn’t control stretched over her face.

“Why, Cee, it’s good to see you. How are you? You look lovely.” He gestured to the bartender to bring her a drink. He turned back to her, his whole face alight with a smile. He still had that funny blond patch on his forehead, but now, with all the gray in his hair, it was not such a contrast. All his scruff was gone, leaving only a well-groomed mustache.

“Not like shit?” she asked, quirking her own brow.

“Not at all like shit,” Ezra said, not missing a beat. She saw the twinkle that accompanied the memory of his words long ago. “The years have been very kind to you, Cee.”

At that she looked away and was glad when her drink arrived in front of her.

“The years have been kind to your face, anyway,” he said softly.

She grimaced. He was as perceptive as ever.

She took a sip of her drink, something potent she wasn’t familiar with. Then she plunged right in. “So where did you go, after the med center?”

“I went home to my wife.”

Cee turned back to him. “You had a wife? And she waited for you all that time? That’s beautiful.”

“She did indeed. And it was a beautiful reunion. She didn’t even mind about my arm. But she was waitin’ for the Ezra that left for the Green Moon though, Cee, and that is not the Ezra that came home to her.”

“It didn’t work out?”

“No. She had married a good man. She did not want a criminal. And I do not hold her to blame for espousin’ the ideal but not the man.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I am sorry too.” He took a drink and set the glass down. “I am sorry for most every day I spent on that cursed moon ten years ago.” He turned and looked at her, eyebrows knit. She felt the sorrow in his brown eyes down in her bones.

“Sometimes I am too,” she said.

“Only sometimes?”

She didn’t answer right away. Finally she said slowly, “I’m glad for what I learned there.” She looked up at him with a tight smile. “I’m glad I met you. But I would never want to repeat the experience.”

“No,” Ezra said on a short laugh. “No.”

The bartender came then and she gave her dinner order, and Ezra asked for his usual.

“So what are you doin’ here on the stunnin’ and effervescent planet Blaven V?” he asked when the woman had gone.

“Meeting a potential client.”

“Is that so? What profession are you practicin’ now, Cee?”

“I have a little company that promotes literacy programs and materials for it. We try to get to some of the Lower systems, places like Sectors Seven and Eight, where the kids don’t have as much opportunity for education.”

“You are not surprisin’ me one iota. You are a woman who _will_ succeed when you put your mind to it. And literature…it makes sense. Now let me make a supposition: you are payin’ everyone a fair wage and engagin’ in ethical business policies.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do. We have to do a lot of courting capital sources for funding, so it’s harder than I thought.” She looked up at him. “Why are you smiling like that?”

A big grin was plastered on his face, warming his eyes. “Because that is the Cee I knew. I am grateful she hasn’t changed. Just seein’ your face is refreshin’ to me, a reminder that there are indeed good things in this difficult universe.”

“It’s only possible because you split the profits from your trophy case with me. Our deal was for the Queen’s Lair. Not for your own work.”

“I believe we previously conducted this argument and I emerged triumphant. That is my recollection.”

She gave him a sidelong look. “Well, you were going under from the anesthesia before they took you back for surgery.” She guessed he didn’t remember that she’d said he didn’t need a kid hanging around and she’d be fine and she was leaving, and that he was still arguing, his words starting to slur, when they wheeled him away. She was well aware of the irony of Ezra insisting that she share the trophy case her father had tried to steal from him. The case over which both he and her father had killed a man.

“And then I found out you paid that med center bill and my debts out of your share before you went, and how did you figure out how to do all that?” He made a dismissive gesture. “Never mind. I forgot who I was talkin’ to.”

“What are you doing these days?” she asked. 

He raised one eyebrow to let her know he was onto her evasive tactic, but answered readily. 

“These days I am the sole proprietor of a minin’ supply and shippin’ business. For those who must mine, I ship their supplies in time.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I hope that’s not the motto. Where do you operate?”

“Strangely enough, in the Seven and Eight Sectors, mostly. A few outlyin’ areas too.”

Their dinners came then and Cee forgot whatever she had been about to ask him. But she did mention the difficulties in Sector Eight.

“It is very unstable in the farmost vector,” Ezra said. “Not just travel. A few systems have had to be evacuated.”

“Yes. I heard about that mysterious fringe group that swept in and rescued the miners and their families on Kamrea against the wishes of both the local government and the mining collective.”

Ezra nodded.

“And…,” Cee said, watching his face, “I just now realized the name of that group.”

Ezra raised his eyebrows, chewing nonchalantly.

_“Number Four,”_ Cee said accusingly. “Your next silent partner?”

“I don’t advise too much curiosity about their proceedin’s,” he said. “That’s Karolclan territory. But I do know this: only the very, very lucky ones find a trusted partner to help ’em to redemption, Cee.”  


  
  


They had both finished their meals now. Cee sat quietly, thinking of the Bits Bar devoured so hastily in Ezra’s tent that day. Of the slurry pack he so gently hooked up for her. Three cycles. That’s all she’d been with Ezra for. It didn’t seem possible the time had been that short. Not when she had grown so much. She remembered the first time she’d looked at Ezra in that tent and seen the person and not the brigand. She’d looked into the eyes of a scared man facing down the loss of something precious and she saw herself.

“Cee, you have a good job now, and a home, I take it? How about a family?”

Here it was. She had hoped he wouldn’t pry, but that had not been realistic. This was _Ezra._

“Did you ever read that novel?” she asked.

“The novel you were re-creatin’?”

She nodded. 

_“The Streamer Girl?”_ He looked down at his empty plate and back to her again. “I have to be honest, Cee, it was not my cup of tea.”

“You found it? You…read it?”

He widened his eyes and looked injured. “I said I would, Cee.”

She rolled her eyes, but she had to swallow hard before she could speak. “It turned out not to be my cup of tea either.”

His eyes didn’t leave her face. “What happened?”

She took a deep breath. “I tried it, you know. Tried going to school. Tried having conversations with the other kids. Tried romance.”

“Nothin’ doin’?”

His quick sympathy brought another lump to her throat. 

She shook her head. It gave her time to compose herself. “It was all right. It was actually good for a bit. I had friends. We had fun. We talked. But they…they had never spent a season processing Jata Bhalu. They never threw a strike out on the Onala Border. Never saw their dad die. Never almost got sold for a case of aurelac.”

He gave a short jerk of his head that somehow seemed sympathetic.

“After a while there wasn’t a lot we could really have conversations about, you know? And we just…” She made a helpless gesture.

“That is a shame, Cee. It’s a real shame. But there are lots of people out there, people like us. People from the Pug.”

“I thought so too. I thought I had found one of them.” She looked up from her drink and gave Ezra a strained smile before looking back down. “He wasn’t like my school boyfriends. Used to be a floater himself. Spent some time smuggling in the Greater Shaz sector. We were together for four years. Until he decided floating was his destiny after all. And not me.” Even though he’d left thirteen months ago and she didn’t think of him that much anymore, she had to swallow hard again. She took a drink.

“Mmm.” She felt rather than saw Ezra shake his head. “Cee, you can’t think like that. You’re young, you—”

“Stop.”

He stopped.

She looked at him, hot tears bleeding into her eyes. “Don’t say I’m young. I was never young. Never.”

His eyes held hers. “That’s fair. That’s fair, Cee. I apologize.” 

But it was too late. The tears came fast now—they had been banked a long time and there was too much momentum behind them. “Where’s the place for me? Where is it? Because I can’t find it. And I’m starting to think there isn’t one. Not for me. Not anywhere.”

Ezra sat looking at her for only a moment before standing. “Come on.” He threw some money on the bar. “Where’s your coat? It’s rainin’ out.”

She found it on the peg despite the blinding tears. Ezra hailed a passing ConVe and they got in. Cee sat with her eyes closed but it took a long time for the tears to stop.

Eventually they got out in front of a large, modern dwelling. Inside the decorative gate was a rock garden of sorts, without the garden. A stone fountain trickled somewhere nearby, mingling with the sound of the rain.

“This is your house?” Cee asked, looking all around. “This is Upper Crust.” Somehow it didn’t really fit her idea of where he’d live.

Ezra opened a big door with some kind of scan and a light came on. “Go on in to the livin’ room there,” Ezra said, going ahead of her into a different room, where another light soon bloomed into life. “I’ll get you somethin’ hot to drink.”

She shed her coat and hung it up on a peg inside the door, then wandered into the sitting room and plopped down onto the couch, upholstered with some kind of animal leather and topped with a couple of throw pillows. Cee scooted to the middle, pulled a colorful woven blanket over herself, and curled up in a ball. As she was toeing off her shoes, she noticed that there was no green in the room anywhere. It was mostly tidy, with comfortable and careless clutter in the corners and on the table in front of the couch.

Ezra laughed when he saw her cocoon. “You won’t even need my special tea now.”

“What’s in your special tea?” she asked suspiciously.

“It’s not special yet.” Ezra pulled a tiny flask out of his jacket pocket and poured a splash in his teacup on the low table between them. He held it up with his eyebrows raised, and she nodded before he eased a few drops into her cup too.

“Oh, that is special,” she said once she’d tasted it.

They sat in silence, sipping, and Cee’s thoughts slowed. She could almost feel the layers of restlessness sloughing off like some kind of molting. Finally Cee set her cup down.

“I didn’t picture you in a big place like this.”

Ezra nodded, looking around as if seeing it with new eyes. “My tolerance for that miniscule tent on Bakhroma Green _frequently_ plummeted to unsatisfactory levels, Cee, I can tell you.”

“Was your wife here with you?”

He put his cup down too. “No. We were still in the Pug when she left. After that, I didn’t stay.”

“No one since?”

He shook his head. “Nothin’ that stuck.”

She understood that. “No kids?”

Ezra sighed and snapped his fingers, looking up at the ceiling. “No kids. I was gonna get rich so we could afford to move to a nicer place, afford to start a family.” He snapped his fingers again and lowered his gaze to Cee. “Once again, we are in the same trough, you and I.”

Cee closed her eyes and nodded.

“And does your arm ever hurt you?”

“No. Not much. Twinge now and then, and sometimes I even forget he’s not with me anymore. Your handiwork is outstandin’.”

She pressed her lips together, remembering how they’d botched their fortune without his right arm. She didn’t care about the fortune, but she did sometimes wonder if it would have made a difference somehow. Maybe for Ezra, with more than half a trophy case, he could have kept his wife, filled up this huge house with kids. Probably not, though. Money wasn’t the kind of thing that ultimately helped much.

“Why don’t you ever call me by my name, Cee?”

She turned her head to look at him. “What?”

“Why don’t you ever use my name?”

“Don’t I?”

“No, you don’t.”

“I don’t know why.”

He cocked his head. “Will you?”

She wrapped the blanket around her closer. “OK. Ezra.”

“That’s better.” He leaned his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. 

He was not as talkative as he used to be. She sort of missed his blather. But maybe he was just as weary as she was. 

Cee was almost asleep when he said, “Did I ever thank you?”

“What for?” she mumbled.

“Comin’ back for me.”

“Don’t remember if you did,” she said. This was the coziest place she’d slept in ages. Maybe years.

“Well, thank you, Cee. It meant a lot, havin’ somebody concerned for me. Lookin’ out for my well-bein’.”

“Me too,” she said.

He chuckled and she heard him stir. A second blanket landed on her head and she summoned the energy to pull it down over the other one. “Remind me next time to refrain from so lavishly dispensin’ the special in your tea.” 

It wasn’t the two tiny drops of his rare liquor that melted her disquiet here. Ezra knew that, surely.

Ezra’s voice got further away before he said, “If that gets too uncomfortable, there are a number of echoin’ empty rooms down that hallway. Make yourself at home.”

“OK,” she said. 

“See you in the mornin’, Cee.”

“G’night.... Ezra.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is more to this story, I think, but…I don’t know what it is yet.
> 
> For now, have a one-shot.
> 
> UPDATE: I watched the movie about twelve more times and figured out the rest of the story. Have 20 more chapters. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Cee woke slowly, not with a start like she usually did. She was aware of warmth, filtered sunlight, the crackle of something frying, and…jav.

She sat bolt upright. No one cooked in her apartment, not even her. Where was she?

The evening came flooding back, along with relief. _Ezra._

She draped one of the blankets from the couch around herself like a shawl and followed the smell to the kitchen.

“Good mornin’, Cee,” Ezra said as she settled onto a stool across the counter from where he was frying some kind of meat in a whole lot of grease. “Got jav there, help yourself.”

There weren’t any cups by the pot, so she poked around in a cupboard or two before she found a mug that looked relatively clean. She poured it full and sat holding it on the stool again.

After a few moments she realized Ezra was shaking his head at her, pursing his lips. “You’re no more loquacious in the mornin’ than you are any other time of day,” he said mournfully.

That didn’t really merit a reply, so she just watched him as he went back to his work. He was wearing a ghastly old black sweater that had snags all over it, and the knit at the collar was unraveling on the left side. It had been neatly folded and trimmed off at the shoulder on the right side. He hadn’t shaved. His hair was sticking up in the back, and he seemed to be listening to some kind of music in his head from the way he was slightly twitching to an erratic beat. Like her teenage self and her headphones.

A smile welled up from within her.

Ezra looked up and caught the end of it, then did a double-take. “Now, that’s more like it. Want some? Grab yourself a plate.”

Again she poked into the cupboard where she’d found the clean mug and got out two plates. She perched on the stool again and handed him his plate.

“Who sewed up your sleeve for you?” she asked.

His good mood vanished. He put two fat sausages on her plate with tongs and said, “My wife.”

“You’ve had the sweater that long?”

He shrugged.

“Who sews up your sleeves now?”

“If I get something new, I have the tailor do it, usually, but…” Again he shrugged.

“But you never get anything new?”

He didn’t answer, just served himself and straddled a backwards chair across from her before putting a fork on the counter. He bit into a sausage.

“Want me to do the sewing?”

He looked up at her, puzzled. “Well, you could, but don’t you have things you are obligated to accomplish instead of fussin’ over me?”

“About that.”

He cocked his head at her.

Cee cleared her throat. “My things are at the rental office. I need to go get them, but…I have time off and I was wondering… Could I stay here for a while?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “What are you runnin’ from, Cee?”

“What would I be running from?”

“Yourself.” He took a sip of jav, watching her over the rim of his mug.

She lifted her chin. “No more than you.”

He put his mug down. “Touché, Cee. Well, my place is your place. Help yourself.”

“Really?”

“Of course really. And if you’ll assist me with the mendin’, I would appreciate it.”

As easy as that, at least part of her holiday plans was set.

Cee volunteered to put the dishes in the washer and Ezra disappeared back the hallway where she assumed his bedroom was. After she tidied up, she found her shoes and her coat and went out to hail a ConVe.

Her suitcase and bag were just where she’d left them in the office, and she rooted through them for the cosmetic bag. The mirror in the little bathroom that adjoined it told her she ought to have attempted to at least brush her hair this morning. She couldn’t help but laugh at how she had thought _Ezra_ ’s hair looked messy.

She repaired herself the best she could and changed clothes before checking out of the rental with her card. Before she went back, she stopped at a little corner market and bought some greenstuff, and fruit.

Ezra was waiting at the door. “What are you up to, Cee?”

She held up the bags. “I bought some decent food.”

He took what he could manage. “Well, you can eat it, anyway,” he said, eyeing it suspiciously.

“That’s the plan.” She brushed past him into the living room, were she put down her cases.

“I hope you’re not intendin’ to take over my life and reform me,” Ezra said, setting the bags down and then sitting on the couch and pulling on his shoes. She noticed they were slip-ons he could manage with one hand.

“You’ll barely notice I’m here,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

“I’m inclined to doubt that part,” he said. He picked up a card from the table and tossed it to her. “Here. This’ll give you access to the front door so you can come and go as you please. I have to get in to the office now, I’ll see you sometime.”

“Thank you, Ezra,” she said.

He paused to smile and nod acknowledgment at her use of his name.

When he left, she wondered what had gotten into her. She minded her own business, always. Why was she suddenly butting into Ezra’s?

She grabbed a fat babao fruit, bit into it, and relished the juice that dribbled down her chin. She never sat down and got messy at her apartment either.

This was starting out as a very strange holiday.

She wandered into the rooms down the hall that Ezra had referenced the night before and found one completely empty, with only window dressings. Another featured a desk and chair, but nothing else. Two small bathrooms across the hall from each other divided these rooms from two bedrooms. One had minimal furniture, but the other had a bed made up, rather messily. But the sheets were clean. Maybe Ezra didn’t make up the guest room beds because he didn’t like doing laundry. She couldn’t really blame him.

So this would be her room. She brought her suitcase into it and unpacked.

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep again, but she had been sitting on his couch and she got a little chilly and curled under a blanket, and the next thing she knew she was opening her eyes. The room was mostly dark except for a light shining over the back of the couch where Ezra was sitting reading a book, big enough to fall open so he didn’t have to try to hold it with one hand. He had some kind of reading specs on, which made him look sophisticated and a far cry from the rogue of the Green. A killer, he’d called himself, and he was, but nothing less than a killer was what she’d needed at her side to survive.

He pushed the specs onto his forehead when he saw her eyes open. “You aren’t gettin’ enough sleep, Cee.”

She didn’t answer, just stretched, still under the blanket. “What time is it?”

“Almost time for me to hit the sack.”

“Sorry I’m not much company,” Cee said.

“It was still nice not comin’ home to an empty house,” Ezra said. “Even if you were snorin’ so loud I couldn’t hear to arrange my thoughts.”

Cee closed her eyes. “I don’t snore.”

Ezra snorted.

She smiled, her eyes still closed. “Do you snore?”

“Never.”

She didn’t respond, just kept smiling. He launched into a story of a roommate he’d had somewhere at some time who snored, and kept them both entertained for a quarter of an hour. Not because Cee actually listened to this apocryphal story, but because she knew he was happy when he was talking. His gritty optimism on the Green Moon had come back to her many times over the years, and she thought Ezra was made to be happy.

“Hey, you never gave me that mending,” Cee said when he had finally come to the tale’s end.

“Cee, you don’t have to—”

“Come on, Ezra, just give me a pile. It’ll give me something to do besides sleep.”

“I’ll give it to you in the mornin’,” he said. “I’m goin’ to sleep. Now, I have no objections to you slumberin’ away your daylight hours situated on my couch, Cee, but did you have any difficulties findin’ the bedroom?”

“I found it. Thank you, Ezra.”

“I told you you’re welcome, Cee. It’s nice havin’ you here.”

She listened to the faint sounds of him puttering around his end of the house, and she suddenly wished she could talk to him some more.

But she didn’t want to invade his privacy, and he was clearly tired after a long day. There would be tomorrow.

She liked the sound of _tomorrow._


	3. Chapter 3

Cee woke before she wanted to, hearing faint banging and clinking in the kitchen. When she recognized her surroundings, she dragged herself out of bed, gave her hair a token brush, eyed her wrinkled clothes from yesterday in the mirror (she’d never taken them off), and left her room with a shrug.

She perched on the stool by the counter again and watched Ezra at work, frying whatever it was in grease. She propped her chin on her hand. He didn’t even notice her, such was the volume of the grease spatter.

Finally he saw her and gave her a full smile that warmed his eyes. He poured her a cup of jav then slid it across the counter to her.

“You appear to stand in need of this.”

She couldn’t even manage a grunt, but she did take a sip. The hot liquid powered through her. It didn’t exactly wake her up, but it did make her feel slightly more alive. She narrowed her eyes and savored the feeling.

Ezra chuckled. “Jav is food for the soul, Cee,” he said. “One time me and my brother were explorin’ the outer reaches of the Krebine region—it was dangerous in those days, the raiders were merciless on their home turf—and ill fortune descended upon us: our jav had run out. Neither of us knew how, or why. All we knew was that one day there was a shortage, the next day there was a dearth, and the day after that, well, there was a panic. Once we had finished up the business of blamin’ each other, we commenced the business of findin’ a natural substitute…”

Cee didn’t really mean to tune him out—she was trying to be polite to her host, and there didn’t seem to be any channelrats in the story—but there wasn’t enough jav in the mug to sustain her through such a tale at this hour. Instead, she pried her eyelids open and watched Ezra, his face animated, as he described the details and gestured freely with the tongs in his hand.

Except for the gray sprinkled in his hair, he didn’t look much older than she remembered. Her memory was probably faulty there though, since fear of not making the sling in time had clouded so much of her time on the Green Moon, even once she realized she could trust him.

“…and do you know, he spent every last coin on a giant sack of jav, and not _one_ was left for repairin’ my tactometer.” He shook his head, clearly still grieved.

“Where is your brother now?” she asked.

He was quiet for a moment, flipping his meat in the grease. “He died in jail.”

She should have bitten her tongue. “I’m sorry.”

Ezra shrugged. “That’s the way it is out there.”

Cee sighed. “It’s that way _out there,_ but I thought the world would be less hostile at Central, or _here,_ on the edges of the Upper Crust. But it’s not, really, is it?”

“It is not, Cee. It’s just got different colors.”

She regretted that she’d even opened her mouth. Why did she always say stupid things? It bothered her to see Ezra grim and quiet.

“So tell me about your mining supply business,” she said.

Ezra plated his sausages and pulled up the chair to the counter again. “Want one? No? Well, it’s all about supply and demand, keepin’ the stock movin’, bein’ the enterprisin’ middleman.”

She took a sip of jav so she could think of something else to say. “So your share of the trophy case got you a _desk_ job, Ezra? I can’t picture it. I had you pegged as an action man.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s flatterin’, Cee, but don’t forget I have accumulated a great many years to my credit.”

She gave a burble of laughter, surprisingly genuine for this unholy hour. “Yes, Ezra, I can see you’re wizened with age. Now be serious. Why a mine supply?”

He shrugged. “I know miners, used to be one, so I know what they need. And the job seemed appropriate for a man with one arm.”

She appraised him over her mug. “What about a prosthesis? Didn’t you want one?”

“Well, it crossed my mind, Cee, but why would I want to mess with all that? Seems like an unnecessary complication. I’m fine, it’s fine.”

Cee looked down at her jav. He could choose whatever he wanted to do with his arm, of course, but she heard resignation in his words. That he’d given up on doing anything more than just getting by. That he thought really living had passed him up.

It hurt her more deeply than she ever would have thought.

But she wasn’t going to cry. She swallowed hard.

He was done eating and stood. “I have to go, Cee. Minin’ supply waits for no man.” He grinned.

“I’ll wash up everything,” she said, nursing her jav. “Hey, don’t forget to leave me your sewing!” she called after him.

Ezra left her a pile of shirts, but she couldn’t find needle and thread anywhere in her wing of the house, and she was reluctant to snoop around in his. She ventured out, having first made herself presentable, and eventually found the supplies she needed.

It was slow work at first, since she wasn’t exactly sure where to trim off the sleeves, and neither her folds nor her stitching were as neat as his wife’s had been (oh she burned with curiosity about his wife). She ripped out the hem she’d put in the first one twice but after that she had a better idea of how to manage it.

Cee had made herself a light supper of sautéed vegetables and settled back onto the couch and began the alteration of Ezra’s sleeves in earnest. It had just started to get dark when she heard voices outside Ezra’s front door. One was certainly Ezra’s, and the other was a woman’s. She couldn’t hear what the woman said, but she recognized Ezra’s most suave and verbose tone. She picked out the word “houseguest” and she froze.

Was she going to be putting a cramp in Ezra’s social life? Should she make a break for her bedroom and pretend she wasn’t here?

She was frozen in indecision when Ezra came in the front door, alone.

“Hello, Cee,” he said. He sounded very upbeat.

“Hello,” she said cautiously. “Did your friend want to come in?”

“Oh, that was not a friend,” Ezra said as he sat down near Cee on the couch.

“Oh. Are you sure?”

“I am, in fact, quite certain. That woman has been tryin’ to recruit me for years now, and I’ve managed to avoid gettin’ netted thus far.”

“Recruited? For what?”

Ezra grinned. “Well, let’s just say I’m not interested. She’d chew me up and spit me out. Scares me to death.”

“Hmm,” said Cee, who knew a little something about Ezra’s courage.

“Took me by surprise today, offered me a ride home.” Ezra shook his head. “I couldn’t think of a single excuse for not doin’ it. I’m slippin’, Cee. But you rescued me. I told her I had a houseguest and she had the courtesy to back off. It was a close shave. I might have been forced to rely on you to bail me out.”

“I would have. I wouldn’t want to see you chewed up and spit out.” She smiled at him.

“Well now, actually, you have seen that,” he said. “But that was the Green perpetuatin’ the crime, not a woman. But I believe you bailed me out then too.”

“And you’re bailing me out now,” Cee said. She felt she ought to be sadder that he was not interested in a relationship with this woman, that this was another way he was letting life pass him by, but she couldn’t be. Ezra deserved a little more tenderness in a relationship, surely. Cee would be happy to vet whoever he might have in mind. He shouldn’t settle for just anyone.


	4. Chapter 4

This day was sunny and held the promise of warmth. Ezra had already gone when Cee woke, but the jav was still hot in the pot, so she sat down and drank half a cup at his counter. When the fogginess left her vision, she spied a piece of paper Ezra had scrawled a note on. Well, she supposed her weak-handed writing was terrible too. She squinted and turned it sideways and finally deciphered that it said he’d be home late since he had a dinner meeting.

She felt absurdly touched that he’d thought to leave her a note when he didn’t need to account to her for anything he did. After smiling stupidly at the note for a rather long time, she sat with her chin propped on her hand, trying to think of an appropriate gift to him for being her host. Clearly babao fruit was out. Anything green was out. Anything that required two hands was out. A book was too obvious. She could furnish and decorate the empty rooms down her hall, but that was being far too officious. She couldn’t think of anything he’d ever expressed an interest in that he didn’t have.

Well, the only thing for it was to go out and buy a huge bag of the best jav she could find, so there would never be another shortage, dearth, or panic. Smiling, she set out.

Blaven V was a beautiful place. She could see why Ezra had settled here. Just outside the city there was a plain of long grasses and rolling hills that ended in the north in a series of rocky cliffs and waterfalls. She had bought a handpie from a street vendor and ate it in the wildflower-dotted grass, watching butterflies and birds flutter around her. Did Ezra ever come out here, or did he hole up in his work, home, and the bar all the time?

In other words, like Cee did, at her home. Like Cee had, most of her life.

Yes, tomorrow—or whenever his next day off was—she was going to drag him out here, in spite of the greenness.

With determination in her heart, she went back into town and discovered a hole-in-the-wall nature center that provided her with information on the trails and waterfalls in the area. From there she tracked down the best jav shop in town and bought such a large bag that she had to come back to Ezra’s with it in a ConVe.

She hefted it across the threshold and propped it against the counter near the brewer. She wondered if Ezra would notice it before the morning. She decided that a quick nap was in order so she’d be awake when Ezra came home late.

She smiled at her giddy sense of anticipation. Well, really, how long had it been since she had planned a pleasant surprise for someone else? Surely she had done something nice for Anteo, hadn’t she? She couldn’t even remember. Maybe it had been as long as the last time she’d sat by a waterfall and looked at butterflies.

She was starting to wonder when she had stopped being alive. Why hadn’t she noticed? Or had she never been alive to start?

  


  


She had set an alarm to be sure to be up when Ezra got back. Yawning, she skirted the sack in the kitchen and made some jav from Ezra’s old supply. Then she turned on all the lights in the living room and set to work on Ezra’s last two shirts.

She was partway through the last one when she heard him come through the door.

“Well, hi, Cee,” he said as he came into the room. He looked a little disheveled and she wondered if he’d been drinking.

“Hi,” she said. “Good meeting?”

He shrugged out of his jacket. “Not really. You got jav going?”

“I needed it for all my physical labor,” she said, holding up the shirt. “Almost done. You’re going to look smashing in these.”

He didn’t respond until he’d gone to the counter (wrong side!) and fished underneath for a mug, which he filled and brought out to the living room. Cee stifled her disappointment and kept sewing.

He sat on the couch with a sigh and took a couple of gulps of the jav before he settled back and looked at her. “You finished them all already?”

“Yes. I didn’t really have much else to do, except explore. Do you go out to the waterfalls much?”

“Waterfalls?”

“Yes, Ezra, waterfalls. Just outside of town. Ever been?”

Ezra shook his head and took another gulp.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He sighed. “I’m fine. Those meetin’s are frustratin’, Cee. No one gives a damn about anything except gettin’ richer. Now, I am not by nature opposed to gettin’ richer—I’d kinda like to get richer—but someone’s always gettin’ trampled in the process. Someone powerless.”

She nodded sympathetically.

“I have done my share of preyin’ on the powerless, Cee. And now, when I want no part of it, I get dejected, thinkin’ I myself am powerless to change any damn thing.”

“And Number Four?” she asked quietly.

He put his head back against the couch cushions. “It makes me feel better to know they’re out there, but they’re not _me._ ”

She wished she had some wisdom to offer, but she didn’t, so she just finished up the last shirt in silence.

“Thank you, Cee,” Ezra said.

She looked up, startled. “For what?”

“For listenin’. For makin’ my shirts smashin’. For not tryin’ to bullshit me.” He gave her a faint smile. “For makin’ jav for me when I got home.”

She looked down at her sewing. It was true that she’d made the jav for him—she never made it at night for herself. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”

He shook his head, picking up his mug.

“Do you want to go out to see the waterfalls, if you’re not busy? It is kind of green out there, but it’s nice.”

“All right,” he said. “I’m game. Your abilities as a tour guide have me intrigued.”

“I think you’ll like it. I did.” She smiled at him.

He smiled back. “Kevva bless, Cee. You make everything better just bein’ here.”

He went for another cup of jav. Still on the wrong side of the counter…

“So tell me more about your work. I take it you do not have a desk job.”

She did, truth be told. She explained more about the day-to-day administration and the funding oversight and the distribution and the production planning she did for the materials, and even as she spoke, it sounded blasé. Cold. Lifeless. Why? She loved it, didn’t she?

She’d forgotten that Ezra was as good at listening as he was at talking. All the questions he’d interspersed about the children and the areas they reached as she blabbed on had been to the purpose of drawing her out. How did he do that? Was that part of his technique, or was he genuinely interested?

She had to assume in her case it was genuine interest, because at the end he said, “It sounds like you’re tryin’ to reach those powerless kids, Cee. I’d like to see you do it in person someday.” It warmed her even more than the jav that he cared about her business.

“In person,” she repeated to herself. It was something she needed to think about.

Finally he stood. “I gotta get to bed, Cee. I appreciate your listenin’. You’re doin’ me a world of good, bein’ here.”

“It’s doing me a world of good to be here too, so we’re even,” she said. Unlike Ezra, she could not go straight to bed after even one cup of jav, but she might try to read a little until she got tired.

Ezra put his mug in the kitchen by the sink, then swore. “What is _this_?”

He must have run into the sack. Cee hopped up and went to him. “That? I don’t want you to run out again, Ezra. I’ve been drinking a lot of your supply up.”

He gave a low whistle. “This is far superior to the stuff I make a habit of buyin’.”

“Only the best for Cee’s host,” she said with a grin.

“I don’t know what to say, Cee. This is very kind of you. I didn’t even know you were listenin’ to that old tale.”

“It was pretty hard that early. At least I had jav to sustain me.”

“Thank you again. You comin’ here has piled good thing upon good thing.”

“I’m glad,” she said, smiling at him.

He smiled back. There was a little awkward pause and then he said, “I’m fallin’ asleep on my feet, Cee. Good night.”

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

_Tomorrow_ again. It was the best comfort.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter contains a brief mention of a miscarriage.

  


Ezra did not get up early the next morning, and when he did, he wasn’t talkative. He didn’t even break into the new sack of jav, but used his old supply. Cee sat on the couch with a book and didn’t say anything to him about going to the falls. In fact, she didn’t say anything at all while he ate breakfast and drank his jav. In Cee’s experience (which admittedly was not vast), the best cure for a hangover was quiet.

Nevertheless, once he had ingested a fair number of cups of jav, he began to seem a little more human. He finally cleared his throat and asked her when she wanted to leave.

“No rush,” she said. “Whenever you feel like it. The waterfalls aren’t going anywhere.”

His smile dawned. “You’re my kind of tour guide, Cee.”

  


  


Ezra wasn’t, in fact, ready to get moving until it was nearly midday. As they walked out the front door, Cee realized this was the first time she had been outside with Ezra in daylight since the Green. Even when she’d helped him off the freighter and into the med center at Puggart Bench, it had been twilight. She half expected him to be wearing his helmet now, hooked up to her with a tether. It was a little disconcerting.

Ezra was still unwontedly quiet, at least for Ezra, as they wandered outside the city and bought sandwiches for lunch. His lack of conversation dampened Cee’s mood a bit, but he didn’t seem to be grumpy, just pensive. She carried his bag and they ate as they walked, and the breeze and the butterflies and the birds soon lifted her spirits. She took a deep breath of poison-free air and smiled. So this was what it was like to be with Ezra in a normal world…

Without words, by mutual consent, when they were done eating they found a bench, slightly off the path, that looked out over the grasses. Ezra sat on the side and tossed the crumbs from his bag, one by one. Cee sat too, curled her feet up onto the bench, and turned her face into the sun and the breeze. She leaned her back against Ezra’s. This was going to bring her freckles out, but for the moment she didn’t care. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling.

Would there ever be anything more lovely than sitting here in peace in the sun with Ezra feeding birds?

After a while Ezra began to talk again, starting out with a story about scavenger birds in Sector Seven and ending with one about the pleasure palaces of Kohtana, populated with exotic butterflies.

“You’ve actually been to one of the pleasure palaces?” she asked him when he finished.

“Only the first level. I was just makin’ a delivery. Those places weren’t made for the likes of me.”

“Just think if we’d been able to ravage the Queen’s Lair, as we hoped…”

There was a long pause before Ezra said, “You know, Cee, I begin to think it all worked out for the best.” She felt him toss some more crumbs. “Besides, you never did care about gettin’ rich, did you? You just wanted to get off that moon and start livin’ a real life, a _Streamer Girl_ life.”

“And it seems I’m still waiting to start,” Cee said softly.

Ezra had no reply, just a sigh that felt empathetic all the same.

Cee felt that it was enough of a segue. “What was she like, your wife?”

Ezra sighed again. It was several moments before he replied. “Her name was Myna, did I mention that? Ah, she was lovely. I expect she probably still is. Her eyes were the deepest brown, her hair as black as night, her skin a warm and honey-kissed shade of bronze.” He chuckled. “My description does her no justice at all.”

“I believe you,” Cee said with a smile that he couldn’t see. “How did you meet her?”

“She was waitressin’ in a little tavern I frequented. ‘Love at first sight’ is a timeworn cliché, but it is a pretty close approximation of our experience. I don’t know what she saw in me, but it was the same for both of us. I had been wanderin’ long, and I was weary of it.

“I have been known to be reckless from time to time, and this was one of the times. It wasn’t long before she was with child, and in an even shorter time we were married at the wrong end of a gun, as it were.” He paused. “Her parents were a tad strict, but I didn’t resent the interference. I loved her, Cee.”

“Ezra, the baby?”

“We lost her in a welter of blood a couple of months later. Myna was hemorrhagin’ badly, but I got her to the med center quick, and I knew that baby was a perfect, tiny little girl who could have fit in the center of my palm, but they didn’t let me touch her or say goodbye.”

“Oh, Ezra.”

“It hit Myna pretty hard too of course. Once she recovered, we wanted to try again, but there was no money, especially after the med center bill. After a while I had the brilliant idea to try my hand at harvestin’ aurelac in the Green.

“Before I began the expedition, I heard my brother was in jail, and I went to get him out.” He paused. “Not an Upper Crust jail, you understand, Cee. It was… _uncivilized_ in the frontier. I did what I needed to get to him. But it was too late—Eli was already dead. And then I went straight to the Green with my crew. That went south and I was stranded, as you know, but eventually, with the help of an excellent new partner, I got out alive and went back to my wife.

“Myna welcomed me home—she could not have been sweeter or kinder. But it soon became clear I was no longer the man she’d married.

“Well, I believe that partnership means bein’ honest. I told Myna about the things I’d done, both to find Eli and on Bakhroma Green. She could not look at me the same way. She was a lot of wonderful things, Cee, but merciful was not one of them.”

“She left?” Cee asked softly, though he had already told her the answer.

“She did,” Ezra said. “Maybe she was right to do so. It was a lot to take in.”

“You would have been a good father, Ezra.”

He sighed again. “I intended to be a good father to a whole lot more children. But as it turned out, I was neither a father nor good.”

“Taking care of your wife meant you were a good father to that baby, even though she died. That will never stop being true, Ezra.”

He was silent for a long time, and Cee could tell from the movement of his back that he was still throwing crumbs to the birds.

"Well, I thank you for that thought, Cee. It means a lot comin’ from you. I’ll ponder it.”

They sat so long in silence after that that Cee felt herself getting drowsy, and she stood up. “Want to go down to the falls?”

They wandered down the path and soon the spray from the falls began to drift into their faces. Ezra picked up the pace until they stood near their base, looking up into the roar and foam. It was too loud to really speak, but Cee could see that Ezra was taking in the experience with pleasure. Then they hiked up some rustic steps to a path that looked down over the top of the falls and watched the water rush toward the precipice.

“I was not aware that any of this was here,” Ezra said as they picked their way back to the well-beaten gravel trail. “I suppose I heard of it, but…”

“I thought maybe you moved here because it was so beautiful.”

“I am reluctant to disappoint you, Cee, but I picked it because of the easy jumper routes from here to almost anywhere. Facilitates business.”

“Well, it’s a consideration.” She smiled at him. “I was just wondering what it must be like to be behind a waterfall and look out at the river of water falling in front of you. What a wonderful secret spot.”

“A secret spot to sit and recreate a novel?”

“I’d have loved that,” she admitted. “But I meant just a spot to get away from everything and do whatever you like.”

“Ah,” Ezra said. “Like my house?”

She laughed. “Now that you mention it…exactly like your house.”

They were silent for a while as they trekked back up the hill toward the grassy plains again. “Is this the kind of thing you do on a regular basis, Cee? Find beauty?” Ezra asked.

She looked out at the waving grasses. “No. To be honest, Ezra, I don’t. I guess I wanted to do something a little different. It just feels necessary right now.”

They kept walking.

“Findin’ good isn’t a gift you should neglect, Cee,” Ezra said, as if ten minutes hadn’t passed.

Cee didn’t answer. She wasn’t convinced. Maybe it was more of a curse if the good was only a thing you could visit but never _have._

  



	6. Chapter 6

The smell of jav woke Cee again the next morning and she stumbled out to the kitchen to her stool.

“I broke into the sack and ground it myself. This is superior jav, Cee. _Superior._ Have a cup.” Ezra, chipper once more, poured her a mug and set it in front of her.

She could only stare at it and mumble her thanks. Why had she rolled out of her warm and undemanding bed, anyway? To see how Ezra liked his gift? Not worth it. A dumb idea.

She knew Ezra was highly amused by her half-awake state but she didn’t even have the wherewithal to be annoyed. He was going on about how he could taste the jav all over his mouth, or something. She managed to take a sip, but it just tasted like black jav to her. At least it was hot.

The next thing she knew, Ezra was saying goodbye and leaving for work. She was still sitting looking at a mostly full cup of rapidly cooling jav, all by herself. Unappealing.

She went back to bed.

When she awoke, the sun filtering into her room was strong. Probably afternoon.

Cee stretched and savored the relaxed feeling in her body, the happiness of knowing she had nothing to do and no one’s expectations to live up to today.

She eventually got out of bed and took a shower before wandering out into Ezra’s living room. It was quiet of course, but a comforting sort of quiet. She felt so happy here, though still a little restless.

She looked around. Opposite the entry from the front of the house was a wall of curtains that Ezra never drew back. Cee peered behind them and sure enough, there was a set of glass doors. Once she undid the locks, they opened reluctantly. Not used much, then, if ever.

The back terrace looked at lot like the front—stone paver pathways meandering through a rock garden (all rock and no garden) adorned with a few low bushes and shaded with trees at the perimeter around the walls. Another fountain, much bigger than the one in the front, dominated the center, but it wasn’t working.

Cee took in the whole space. No weeds popped up through the cracks, and the bushes were tidily trimmed. Ezra must have some kind of service come in to help with this garden (she couldn’t picture him having the patience to do this himself). But apparently they didn’t repair water fountains.

She poked around the perimeter of the fountain and found the controls, probably just in need of a tweak. Now, to find some tools… There was a small shed in the corner by the alley, but it was locked with a rusty old-fashioned padlock.

That was an easy enough proposition. Cee returned to the garden with one of the larger needles from her earlier purchase, and with some patience had both the lock and the garden shed door open. It was dark and full of webs, but fortunately a toolbox was on a shelf just inside the door that had all she needed.

Ezra stuck his head out the glass door. “Are you out here, Cee?”

She sat back on her haunches. “I’m out here by the fountain!” she called. “Just finishing up. Where’s your water shutoff?”

“I don’t know, Cee. I never come out here.”

“Never?” She shook her head, then led the way along the back wall of the house to find a control box. When she found it, she tried the switch and a gurgling sound echoed. She ran out to the fountain, where water shot up and splashed generously down the tiers and into the little rimmed pool before slowly draining into grates at the bottom.

“No gunk in it. Must have been drained before it shut down. Did you do that?”

Ezra shrugged. “No. I never even attempted to operate this thing, Cee. Before my time, I guess.”

“It looks like it recycles the water, so you don’t even waste it, really.” Cee smiled at it. “It’s so nice. I can’t believe you never even bothered with it!”

“It seemed like a lot of—”

“—extra hassle.” Cee finished the sentence for him. Again the sorrow for him welled up, and she dutifully swallowed it back down.

“Well, if it makes you feel better,” Ezra said, kneeling and gathering up the tools she’d left on the ground, “I’m glad you messed with it instead of me.”

It didn’t make her feel a lot better, no.

She took the box from him and handed him the flashlight. “You shine this into the shed. Please. It’s creepy in there.”

She had no sooner opened the shed door when a sudden motion startled her. She caught a glimpse of something hairy and she shrieked and dropped the box, which broke open and scattered tools across the floor. She retreated behind Ezra.

“Cee?” Ezra’s voice rose with astonishment.

“There’s something in there. It-it was hairy.”

“Like what? A katmanya monster?” Ezra shone the flashlight into the murky depths.

“N-no. More like…” Cee cleared her throat. “More like a spider.”

There was a long silence. “Well,” Ezra said, “I hope you’re not expectin’ to send a crippled man into that dark shed to wrestle a hairy _spider._ ”

Her lips were already twitching as she came out from behind him and started picking up the tools. “Oh, all right, Ezra. But it moved _suddenly,_ okay? It _startled_ me.”

“Well now, Cee, I still have a gun inside, if you think…”

“Stop it, Ezra!” She was giggling now. “Just—just keep shining the light.”

But Ezra was laughing too hard to keep the light steady. It was still a little nerve-wracking to pick up the tools in the wavering light, but although she shied once at a shadow, she managed to put the toolbox back where she’d found it.

“Are you finished with this?” she asked politely, before snatching the light out of Ezra’s hand and putting it back too.

“Whew.” Ezra wiped his eyes. “It’s just that I’m so used to you bein’ invincible, Cee, that I never thought—”

“I’m a little scared of spiders, okay? They—they move funny.”

“Hmm,” said Ezra as he closed the door and set the lock again with a snap. “Hope that will hold it.”

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“I’m just tryin’ to protect you, Cee. Though I hear that sometimes”—he lowered his voice to a whisper—“they can get under doors.”

She spun and flounced to the center of the garden, where she turned to confront him. “You know what happens to people who tease me, Ezra? You know what? They get’’—she turned and splashed two handfuls of fountain water onto him— _“wet.”_

The water fight was on, though Cee, being two-handed, had the advantage. And when she claimed a decorative flowerpot from the rock garden, it was all over.

“All right, all right! I surrender.” Ezra held up his hand and stepped out of the shallow pool, dripping. “I repent and efface myself.”

  


  


Cee toweled her hair dry before brushing it out and pulling it back into a sleek tail. Then she repaired her face as best she could, though she feared her freckles were irrepressible.

She went out into the kitchen, where Ezra was puttering around his stove. His hair was still wet too and curled around his ears and in the back.

“What are you making? Can I help?” She peered into the large skillet on the stovetop.

“I was thinking noodles for supper, some kind of sauce.”

“That sounds good. You have more sausage? Of course you do.” She had to rummage through his cupboards, getting in Ezra’s way, but she came up with some spices and curry for a thick sauce. “Do you think this would be okay?”

“Sure,” Ezra said, popping something into his mouth and chewing. “As long as you’re not overflowin’ it with vegetation. And if you’re performin’ the bulk of the labor.”

He proceeded to argue with every spice she put into the sauce until Cee began to suspect it was his form of vengeance for the water fight. She’d had it from his own lips that he frequently indulged. She got a babao fruit out and started to slice it up, narrowing her eyes at him. He grinned at her knowingly, and the criticisms stopped.

“This is actually good,” Cee said when they’d both sat down at the counter, after the first bite.

“You mean I was trustin’ you blindly, and you had no idea if it would even be _palatable_?”

“It tastes delicious, don’t you think? And your noodles are…not half bad.”

Ezra snorted, but he kept eating.

“I’m sorry I laughed at you, Cee, out there in the shed,” he said when they’d cleaned their bowls.

“Oh, Ezra, it doesn’t matter. I am kind of afraid of spiders. And before you say anything about Jata Bhalu, it had been dead _two days._ ”

He grinned. “It’s kinda nice, knowin’ you’re human.”

“Very fallible, I’m afraid.”

“It makes you far more relatable, Cee. Just you remember that.”

  



	7. Chapter 7

“Hello?” Cee pushed open the door with her hip and peered into the dark living room. She dropped her bags by the couch but put the food on the low table. “Ezra?”

She peeked into the kitchen, which automatically lit up as she entered. “Ezra?”

She didn’t hear or see him. He must not be home yet.

Squelching her disproportionate sense of disappointment, she toted her shopping purchases back to her room and then sat down at the low table in the living room to unpack the food. A soft sound behind her almost made her jump out of her skin—but it was only Ezra, coming into the room, yawning, wearing sleeping clothes and dark socks. He looked very scruffy and unkempt.

She smiled at him.

“Hi, Cee. I took a page from your book and fell asleep after work.” He grinned sleepily. “What do you have there?”

“It’s your supper!” she said, making a sweeping gesture. “I picked us up some food from the bar. I got your usual.” She pulled out his box and set it beside hers. “The bartender seemed surprised she hadn’t seen you as much this week.”

“I do frequent that establishment,” Ezra said, plopping down beside her. “Even my favorite beer?”

“She said you like it on tap better, but this is a lot more portable.”

“This was worth wakin’ up for, Cee. I appreciate it.”

When they’d finished eating, she put her head back against the cushions with a contented sigh. She’d already ditched her sandals upon coming inside and now she drew her feet up onto the couch. She gestured with her chin. “What’s the book you’ve been reading?”

He smiled and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It’s a rare book, a collection of folktales, legends, myths from various locations in our system. They are, on the whole, an eclectic and occasionally bizarre mix, but as a raconteur, I find them of interest.”

“Such as?” Her feet were cold, and she burrowed her toes under Ezra’s leg.

“Why don’t you put some socks on, Cee?” he asked, putting on his specs.

“I’m too lazy to go get them,” she said.

He shook his head and leaned over to his other side to grab the blanket from the arm of the couch. He threw it on her head again and she wrapped herself up in it. She left her toes where they were though.

“I give you two and a half minutes,” he said, picking up the book, balancing it on his knees, and paging through it.

“For what?”

“Till you’re asleep again.”

“I can last at least three,” she argued, burrowing down until only her face showed.

He put an unused paper napkin in the book as a marker and closed it before he turned his head to look down at her. “Things must have been pretty bad for you, Cee. Needin’ this much sleep—you must have gone through somethin’.”

She thought a minute before she said, “Not really. I just couldn’t sleep. Night after night after night. No specific reason I could think of.”

“You been like that for long?”

She shrugged. “A few years? Maybe more? I don’t know for sure. Seems like I just accepted it.”

Even as the words left her mouth, she understood her deep sorrow for Ezra’s attitude toward a prosthesis.

It seemed she shared his resignation.

Ezra was shaking his head. “You have to think of what you’re gonna do next, Cee. You can’t just let that problem ride. You can’t live like that.”

She sighed. “There are lots of ways to make yourself sleep. My father tried them. I don’t want to end up strung out and high like he was so often.”

“He was a user?” His tone said he was surprised by this information.

Cee nodded. “Always looking for one more hit. Just a little more.”

Ezra looked thoughtful. “I guess that fits.”

“Yeah. And we both know how that ends.”

He nodded, not speaking. After a few minutes he took his specs off and put them on the table, then stretched his arm and curled it back behind his head. “So now how are you gonna figure out how to stop lyin’ awake at night?”

“I don’t know. I thought I’d get some sleep first and let my brain recover before I try to tackle it.”

“How come you’re sleepin’ so well here?”

She held his eyes. “It’s you, Ezra.”

“Me?”

“I can be me with you, Ezra. You understand.”

“Not my fascinatin’ stories?”

She smiled. “No. Just you.” She wiggled her toes.

“Well, that beats all. The neatest backhanded compliment I ever received. I must learn to appreciate my innate ability to bore you straight into oblivion.”

She freed her toes and stood up, then leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Not boring. Comforting. There’s a world of difference, Ezra.” She arranged the blanket in a drape over his head. “Good night.”

  



	8. Chapter 8

Ezra woke up at his usual time—with enough time to shower, cook something for breakfast, and swallow a mug or two of jav before dashing to work. He was his own boss, so he could be late if he wanted, but he knew a routine was the best way to convince yourself you were doing what you were supposed to be.

But somehow knowing Cee was visiting gave him a lot more motivation to throw back the blankets and climb out of bed.

When he arrived in the kitchen, he was freshly clothed, shaved, and groomed, and ready to brew jav. Sure enough, within a few minutes the smell had permeated the house, and he heard stirrings from the direction of her room. She came out, bleary-eyed and half awake.

She sat at the counter, barely managing to center herself on the stool. Her hair was mussed and the back was matted in a tangle, and he noticed that whatever cosmetics she’d used on her face before were now gone, revealing that she was still as freckled as she’d ever been. Kevva bless, she was as cute as a billybug.

He put the mug of jav in front of her and grinned. She scowled at him.

“You look pretty grumpy. Did I ever tell you about the time I ran smack into a jimbabear comin’ out of hibernation? Now that was grumpy. She was the— Now where are you goin’, Cee?”

She had given a muffled cry and disappeared with her mug of jav down the hall.

Well, that was too bad, but he kept on with the story anyway, in case she was still listening.

  


  


  
It was a slow day at work, and he couldn’t help thinking of her running away with a wail of despair and the chuckle it gave him. Once, while he was on the video comm with a regular customer, Carr, he broke out into a grin and had to make up excuses on the spot.

But he’d apologize when he got home. He knew he talked too much, and he knew he shouldn’t have teased her like that.

It was good to have a reason to look forward to going home.

She was cooking something that smelled really good when he walked in the door. He followed the smell and sat on the stool she’d begun to occupy each morning. He put his case down and took a deep breath. “Have you extended grace enough to permit me to share?” he asked.

Her hair was pulled back in a utilitarian and messy tail. Freckles were gone though. “Grace? What are you talking about?”

“Forgiveness for annoyin’ you this mornin’.”

“That doesn’t worry me,” she said. “I’m not a morning person. But I hope you’ll extend _me_ grace enough to try this.” She brought him a big spoonful of something, blew on it, and offered it to him with a worried look.

Ezra blew on it too before taking a cautious bite. “It’s good.” He swallowed. “It smelled delicious, comin’ in the door.”

She beamed. She fed him another spoonful. “Sure?”

He nodded.

“Good. You just earned yourself dinner.” She plated the food, which looked like some kind of pie or casserole, handed it to him with a fork, and sat down to watch him eat it. “But I should warn you that I snuck some vegetables into it.”

“You shouldn’t have revealed your secret,” Ezra said, nevertheless cleaning the plate. “You appear extremely satisfied with yourself, Cee.”

She laughed. “I am. I just wish I’d had time to think of something for dessert. Something _fruity._ ”

A bell rang that signaled someone was at the door, and Ezra snuck a big spoonful from the baking dish before he went to see who was there.

It was the three men he usually played Bloody Sam with once a month. Damn. He had forgotten it was tonight, and at his place. He admitted as much when he let them in, but they were hardly listening. They had spied Cee.

They all crowded to the counter like hounds on the scent. He could almost see Cee’s reserve settling over her. Dammit. He didn’t even particularly _like_ these men…playing cards was just a civilized excuse for them to take one another’s money as the opportunity arose.

Shry, specifically, was raising all Ezra’s hackles, and he had quite a few. Ezra did not like the way he was looking at Cee.

“Hello,” Cee was saying quietly. “I’ve got enough casserole for you all, if you’d like some.”

Of course they all agreed.

Ezra rattled off all their names for Cee, grabbing as many plates from the cupboard as he could in his hand. He nodded to Cee and she filled the first.

“You all go ahead down to the dining room”—he indicated down the hall toward his room with his head—“and I’ll bring forks.” That should get them out of Cee’s proximity. She was visibly uncomfortable under their scrutiny so he stood between them and her. He loosed an eloquent flow of prattle on them until they’d gone into the next room.

When he’d gotten rid of Shry, he said to Cee, “Don’t worry about cleanin’ up. I’ll do that later.” He knew she could handle any of these men, but the fact that she had to do it _in his house_ made him angry.

She nodded and slipped past him toward her room.

“She’s merely a friend who’s temporarily takin’ advantage of my hospitality. Like yourselves,” he said as they pelted him with questions. They clearly didn’t believe him, but that was all the information they were getting. And then he fleeced each and every one of them.

They left early. They’d never play with him again, and he wasn’t sorry at all.

  


  



	9. Chapter 9

Cee heard Ezra come in the front door. “Hey, Cee, I’m home. Are you here?”

She came out of her room to find him with the surprise supper in his hand this time. She hadn’t managed to drag herself out of bed for jav with him this morning and it made her smile to see him.

“Hey, you’re wearing one of the shirts!” she said as she took one of the bags from his hand. She leaned closer and squinted at her handiwork. “It looks pretty good,” she said, with surprise.

“After the arm, the sleeve should have been simplicity itself,” Ezra said, putting his bag on the low table in the living room.

“Cutting off and sewing up are two completely different things, as you know,” she retorted. “What are we having tonight?” She peeked into the bags.

“Chobah. Ever had it?”

She knitted her brows and shook her head.

“It’s good. Originated in Lao. You’ll like it.”

It turned out she did. She wondered if her mother had eaten chobah the night before her water broke early and Cee was born. She stifled an inward sigh for how her father had withheld so many memories she would have treasured.

Ezra interrupted her thoughts as he stood and tugged off his neckgear. “That was good, but I need to find alternative clothing that does not bring to mind a hangman’s noose.”

She finished her food while he changed. He came back out wearing his sleeping clothes and his trademark dark socks. “Look what I found in the closet!”

She had no idea what it was—just a wooden box of some kind.

“It’s kendattel!” he said, excited as a child. He shoved the food containers aside with the box and laid it on the table, then unhooked the latch and opened it.

Inside were a folded board, dice, a cup, and carved pieces.

“A game?”

He looked up, eyes sparkling. “ _The_ game. I used to play this when I was young, with my brother.”

“You’ve had it that long?”

“Yes,” he said, unpacking the box. “It was the last gift my father gave me.”

“He died?” she asked softly.

He glanced at her. “He left.”

Cee sighed. She was not going to ask Ezra any more painful questions about his family. She stood. “Let me get this trash out of the way and we can play if you want.”

“You know the rules?” he called into the kitchen as she jammed the packages into the incinerator chute.

“No,” she called back. “I hope this isn’t a betting game.”

“It’s not, although you could,” Ezra said. “Why?”

“I can guess why your friends went home so early.”

He paused and looked at her. “I apologize for them, Cee.”

“Oh, Ezra. It was nothing.” It was something, though. She hadn’t needed his help and it had been a very minor thing, but when was the last time someone had really been concerned for her, actually looked out for her? The last time she’d been with Ezra, that’s when.

He turned his attention back to the game pieces. “I don’t ever want you to be discomforted here, Cee.”

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “That’s very kind of you, Ezra. But it’s okay, really.” She scooted closer and opened up the game board. “Now, what are the rules here?”

“Well, let me get it all set up…,” he said.

She watched him arrange the pieces with care. His sideburns were too long, his face starting to scruff over since his morning shave, his hair curling in the back and over his forehead, by the blond patch, where he’d shoved it back. He’d changed out of the nice shirt she’d sewed up back into the horrible old black sweater and tannish pants. His socks, she noticed, had holes in them. Two on the left and one on the right. He clearly didn’t notice, or didn’t care.

The lump she thought she’d swallowed grew and tears stung the back of her eyes.

She’d never experienced such a wave of tenderness for another person. For Ezra and the stupid unnoticed holes in his socks.

For Ezra, who in the midst of his own pain, had told her she was doing a great job at cutting his arm off. For Ezra, who’d listened to her girlish dreams with not mockery but respect.

For Ezra, the friend who fought for her as well as himself. For Ezra, whose ruthlessness was only outstripped by his kindness.

For Ezra, who had given her a refuge when she hadn’t even known she was looking for one. For Ezra, who listened deeper than her words.

For Ezra, who’d never wanted Cee to be anything but Cee.

“Cee?”

Ezra was looking at her, his eyes full of concern. His beautiful warm brown eyes. “Are you all right?”

What did she _do_ with this?

“I… Ezra, would you make me some of your tea?”

“Well, certainly I will, but, Cee, are you sure that’s all you need?”

No, it was definitely not all she needed now, but she had to think this thing through, turn it over and inside out and backwards and _not_ throw herself into his arms—his arm—like she wanted to at this moment.

She nodded, blinking back the tears hard.

He gave her a doubtful look before standing and going into the kitchen.

“You never did finish telling me about your book,” she called when she had control of her voice, just to fill the silence.

“I didn’t, did I?” he said, coming into the room and putting the cup down in front of her. “Only one drop of the special. It’s not a game only one person can play.”

Only too true.

“Thank you. You said you found some of the tales particularly interesting.”

He sat down. She had to stop herself from staring at him in this new light she’d discovered. “Yes,” he said. “There is one that appears to be indigenous to a number of cultures. I find that a little odd, but nevertheless it’s true. Perhaps that points to a deeper truth for all peoples.”

“And it is…?”

“These legends tell of a string, an invisible and metaphysical string, that ties certain people together, their fates never separate.”

“Like destiny?”

“Indeed. Usually it is only two people, and they meet as children. One perceives the other as a particular enemy. Their ways part. Then, when they are grown, they find each other again, but as lovers.”

“I know a story like that.” Cee couldn’t help her grin in spite of the turmoil she was feeling. “It happens in the sequel to _The Streamer Girl._ You should read it.”

“Well now, if there’s a sequel, it seems I must.” He shot her a look under his brows. “A mystical thread of fate,” he murmured, absently.

“Don’t you believe in fate at all?”

He shrugged. “All my philosophy, Cee, is based on pragmatic matters. I don’t consider the destiny of the human soul to be within my jurisdiction.”

Cee put down the cup. “Thank you for the tea, Ezra.” She felt almost normal again, and as long as she didn’t look at his socks—or his hand, or his eyes, or his hair, or the scar on his face, or directly at him at all—she’d be fine. “Now, how do we play this game?”

  



	10. Chapter 10

Cee realized, as she sat on her stool at the counter and watched with bleary eyes as Ezra fried meat, that she’d been getting up at a ridiculous hour in the morning on her holiday just to spend time with Ezra. It made sense, really. They were friends. She liked being with him. He was currently talking and she could not make her ears keep up, but still. She was here.

But she wondered how long she’d been getting up at a ridiculous hour in the morning on her holiday also to _look_ at Ezra. Just how long had this been coming on? How long had she been subconsciously taking in the breadth of his shoulders and the way they sometimes stretched a shirt to its limit? How long had she been thinking about the way he tucked his shirt into the narrow waistband of his pants? How long had she been admiring his profile and his cheekbones and the smile lines around his eyes? She was pretty sure that she could sit here and look all day…

“…don’t you think?” Ezra asked, flashing her a grin.

It did things to her stomach. “Nnnnn,” she said.

He took that as agreement and went on. “And afterwards, they celebrated with a display of what they referred to as ‘fireworks,’ but which would have been more accurately termed ‘explosives.’”

She had it bad. She even loved the way he talked incessantly. Except maybe this early in the morning. That _was_ pushing it a bit. But as long as he didn’t expect a coherent response…

Ezra sat down across the counter from her and offered her some of his meat, which she shook her head at.

“Big doin’s today in the minin’ world,” he said. “Prototype for a size 18 drill bit debuts.”

How had he functioned all these years without another human to talk to? Answer: he talked to himself. That was…kind of adorable.

Her mind tried to form a thought around size 18 drill bits, but nothing happened. Not to worry. Ezra had plenty of his own, about foundries and fabrication and whether any current rigs could be adapted to accommodate this size…

It didn’t matter. He was so happy talking that she just smiled at him.

But she had to stop. Sitting here gazing at his lips moving was not being rational. It wasn’t giving thought to what to do with all this. It wasn’t weighing pros and cons. It was only giving her feelings free rein, and she knew they could drag the rest of her right along with them.

She would be leaving soon. She had to hold it together until she got some space to think this through.

__

_  
_

  
She was leaning against a sunbaked rock in the back terrace, her mind blank as she watched the water play over the ridges of the fountain, when Ezra poked his head out the glass doors. “Cee?”

“Out here!” she called, standing up. “How were the size 18 drill bits?” she asked as she stepped inside.

“To be candid, soporific,” he said, tugging at his neckgear. “There’s a street fair tonight in the eastern district. Want to go?”

“Sounds fun!” she said.

“I’ve never been. I’d say it will be, but expect pickpockets.”

“Okay. Just like the Pug.”

“Just like the Pug, but fun.”

And it was fun. There was noise everywhere, and the crowd was so packed together that Cee had to cling to both Ezra’s hand and the back of his shirt as she followed him so they didn’t get separated.

They tried out a couple of the game booths, which, Ezra shouted over the din, were almost certainly rigged. In one she had to shoot wooden ducks that popped up here and there. She wasn’t so good, but Ezra bull’s-eyed every one, even weak-handed. He raised his eyebrows at her in triumph. But when the booth attendant sourly presented his award, a huge pink jimbabear (looking grumpy indeed), he could only burst into laughter along with Cee. It was too big to carry, so Ezra gifted it to the kid whose turn after theirs hadn’t been so successful.

Ezra guided Cee through the crowd again (Cee would have been happy just to navigate through the crowd all night, since it meant holding Ezra’s hand) and they stopped to watch a fire-breather. It was pretty repetitive, but Ezra was still holding her hand, so Cee shamelessly didn’t make a peep of protest. They soon moved on to the food section. There they ate a variety of dishes they couldn’t even identify, and Ezra got some kind of sauce in his mustache that Cee had to wipe away for him with a napkin. She couldn’t decide whether that was better than holding his hand or not. Maybe a toss-up. She’d take either. Or both.

There was a band playing near the food court, where the milling crowd turned into a dancing crowd, but Ezra steadfastly refused to participate. Cee joined the throng for a little while, and had a heart-stopping moment afterward when she couldn’t find him, but there he was, right beside her.

“Are you tired of this?” she yelled over the noise.

He nodded, and gave a jerk of his head indicating the way out. The crowd there wasn’t as dense, but Cee took his hand anyway. She relinquished it with a sigh when they got to the street so he could hail a ConVe home.

“Did you have fun?” she asked him when they were settled inside.

“I did, Cee. It’s not the kind of thing I do too often. It’s not terribly appealin’ to do alone.”

They didn’t say much else on the way back to Ezra’s house. Cee knew they were both weighing their words tonight.

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When they got home, Ezra went back to the office in what he’d begun to think of as his wing of the house. He sat in his chair for a while, staring at nothing in particular.

She was going back. She had a life, a life that didn’t include him. He knew that. He’d known that from the start.

When had it started to make such a difference to him?

He couldn’t sit still, so he went into his bathroom and washed his face, just to make sure he didn’t have any more sauce anywhere. He eyed his reflection in the mirror. His face was covered in stubble and why hadn’t he combed his hair before he left? Turned out there was sauce on his shirt too, so he went to change it. What a mess he was.

So be it. Cee already knew he was a mess.

He wished he’d kept that ugly pink jimbabear, just to remember the way her face had lit up with laughter when it had been thrust into his hand.

Hell. Not just a mess, but a sentimental ass too.

He walked out into the living room, where she was sitting on the couch, as he’d hoped.

“What’s that you’re listenin’ to, Cee? Are those your old headphones you carried around in the Green?”

“These are the ones. Same old pod too. Do you want to listen? You don’t have to dance.” Her eyes twinkled.

He sat down. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

She scooted across the couch next to him and transferred them from her head to his, adjusting them over his ears. She put her chin on his shoulder, watching him for his reaction.

A plaintive female voice pleaded,

_Take me, take me  
Take my heart and all  
I was born, I was born  
To be yours  
Love me, love me  
Get me, hold me tight  
Now I’m crying in the storm…  
Why, why not me?_

He smiled and nodded at Cee. She seemed reassured that he liked it and put her head down in the hollow of his shoulder where his arm would have been. For a woman made of steel, she was so _soft._

She was asleep, of course, in a matter of minutes. She really had needed this holiday.

When the music was over, he let it repeat, reluctant to move and wake her. He did wrangle the blanket from the end of the couch with minimal disturbance and draped it over both of them. He put his head back against the cushions, and since he was an old man, it wasn’t long until he was asleep too.

  


  
He woke, befuddled.

 _I was born, I was born  
To be yours  
Love me, love me  
Get me, hold me tight…  
Why, why not me?_

The words echoed in his head and sank into his soul, but what he’d been dreaming of was the day he’d lost his arm.

_I’m gonna miss him,_ he’d said. The thought of her going away, maybe forever…

_My primary weapon,_ he’d said. She’d blown the dig, then set him up to kill Inumon.

_Always there, ready to help,_ he’d said. Whether field first aid or mending his sleeves or seeing what puny good there was in him.

_No job too gritty,_ he’d said. She took off his arm without batting an eye. Was there a steadier woman alive?

_No love too intimidating,_ he’d said. That had been a joke made by a lonely man. But it was no joke now. This was the most intimidating love—if that’s what it was—that he’d ever known. She was half his age, and Kevva knew what she’d say about the way he was thinking about her now.

He looked down at her, nestled against where his right arm had been. If ever there was a woman suited to be at his side…

She opened her eyes then and blinked up at him. She smiled and reached up to take the headphones off. “You didn’t have to keep them on for hours,” she chided, laying them aside.

“I didn’t want to move for fear I’d wake you. You looked so touchin’ there, droolin’ in your sleep.”

Her eyes widened and she put her hand to her mouth, then realized he was teasing her and punched his shoulder. It was high enough up that it didn’t hurt his stump, but she jumped up with an apology anyway.

“It’s okay, Cee. Sit.”

She settled onto the couch again, looking contrite. He wasn’t that sorry though that she settled back into the corner away from him. It was a lot easier to think that way.

She didn’t say anything, so he finally broke the silence.

“So you’re goin’ back?”

“I have to. We promised months ago that we’d be there with those books and teaching materials for the kids. I can’t let them down, tremors or no tremors. When these hard things happen is when they need hope the most.”

He nodded. “You’ll be okay when you’re there, but travel could be rough. Are you goin’ by yourself?”

She tilted her head. “I had assumed so. But maybe…” She wrinkled her brow.

He let her think a couple of ticks before he said, “And are you comin’ back, Cee?”

She looked up at him, and the silence stretched out. He felt his stomach muscles tighten. She was giving him that level, searching look he knew so well.

“I’d like to,” she said slowly. “Would you mind?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all, Cee. You know you’re welcome here.”

She smiled then, almost shyly. “I do know, Ezra. You’ve been so wonderful to me. It’s been—it’s been just what I needed to be with you for a while. I’m so glad I walked into your bar that night.” She looked at him searchingly again and then gave a little sigh. “What about you? Didn’t you say you had to go somewhere too?”

“Yes, but I can change that—nothin’ urgent. The meetin’ is set up already though, so I might as well go.”

She sighed again, faintly. “It will be at least a week, likely more. I might have to travel via the old freighter route for safety’s sake.”

“Well, you just hold on to the card for my front door then. Come on in when you’re back.”

She looked like she was going to cry but she didn’t, just swallowed hard and nodded, smoothing down the fuzz on the blanket beside her.

“Thank you for…letting me just…take over your guest room.”

“I keep tellin’ you, Cee—I like havin’ you here.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded, looking down at her hands.

A dozen things he could say crowded onto his lips, but he didn’t open them. This was not the time to clutter up the silence between them with meaningless patter.

Finally she stood. “I’ll have to leave pretty early tomorrow,” she said in a half whisper, “so I guess I might not see you. But I’ll be back, Ezra. In a couple of weeks at most. Okay?”

“Okay.” When she was partway down the hall, he added, “I’m countin’ on it, Cee.”

  



	11. Chapter 11

Ezra knew when he opened his eyes in the morning that she was already gone.

The house felt still and empty. Emptier, even, than it had before she came. Ezra wandered out to the kitchen to stare at the jav brewer and wonder whether it was worth it to start a pot this morning.

The memory of the long, lonely, pain-hazed days after Myna left came back to him with almost physical force. Did he have the fortitude to go through all that again? It was not a work day and he pictured losing himself once more in a bottle for a while…

The doorbell rang. That was odd for this time of the morning. When he opened the door, standing on the doorstep he found his housekeeping team, three generations of the same family.

“Ezra!” cried the grandmother. She pinched his cheek while the other two slipped around her with their supplies.

“Why, hello, compadres,” said Ezra. “It’s been a while. Surely enough time has elapsed that you’ve finally given bir—” Into the crook of his arm was slipped a warm little bundle. “She’s beautiful” came out before his mind had time to think of something more original.

The granddaughter clapped her hands. “He knew my baby was a girl! I told you, Mama! You owe me three.”

 _“Pffft,”_ said the mother, assembling the sweeper with emphasis. “You stuck a bow in her hair.”

Ezra gazed down at the little sleeping creature. It had been a long time since he’d actually held a baby, looked into the face of a living one. In fact since he’d held his brother Eli. He distinctly remembered him this small, red-faced and screaming. _“You take him for a while,”_ his mother had said. And he had, for twenty years.

The women had disappeared down the empty wing with their supplies and equipment, and now crept back, wide-eyed and awed.

“There was a _woman,_ ” the mother said in a whisper.

“There was the powder compact, and lipstick, and _heels,_ ” said the granddaughter, indicating three inches with her fingers.

“Has the baby had her nameday?” he asked.

They all ignored him, waiting for an explanation.

He was filled with relief that Cee had left some of her things, just another guarantee that she was coming back. Not that she would break her word.

The mother took him gently by the arm, not disturbing the baby, and led him to the couch. They surrounded him, sitting on the arm, the table, the couch beside him. They all had names, of course, which he mostly remembered, but it was easier to think of them in their roles.

“Tell about her,” the grandmother ordered.

“Why is she in _there_?” the granddaughter asked, indicating Cee’s room with a jerk of her head. She looked significantly in the direction of Ezra’s room.

They were going to badger him to death if he didn’t tell them. Besides, he liked them.

“Her name is Cee.”

They all sighed happily. Then looked at him expectantly.

“She’s an old friend.”

The granddaughter rolled her eyes. The mother pursed her lips. The grandmother patted his shoulder. “Give him a chance. She means a lot to him and it’s hard to speak it.”

He smiled at her gratefully, though he knew it was giving his thoughts away. “She’s the one who cut off my arm.”

They all recoiled with a gasp, so that was satisfactory, if temporary, revenge.

“But it saved my life. I would have died if she hadn’t.”

“She saved your life?” The granddaughter’s eyes were sparkling.

“She did. More than once. And I must confess, I made some contributions toward savin’ hers too.”

The mother nodded sagely. “That means you are tied together by fate.”

“Yes, but,” said the granddaughter impatiently, “is she single? Is she _pretty_?”

All his experience playing Bloody Sam across the farthest reaches of the system, running schemes, and carrying off heists with artificial bonhomie did nothing for him in that moment. A genuine grin spread across his face and would not leave. “She is indeed.”

Once again they all sighed happily at this, but continued to look at him expectantly.

“And?” prompted the mother. “She’s coming back?”

“She is,” he said. “She promised.” His voice quit working and he closed his eyes.

The women crept away softly and respectfully, except the granddaughter. She patted his shoulder. “She will come back if she gave her word,” she whispered. “But you keep little Ki for a bit. She will comfort you.” A pause, then she added, “As long as she stays asleep.” And then she fled with the duster.

The warm little body—he was going to have to start thinking of her as the great-granddaughter—tucked up against him _did_ comfort him a bit, as did watching her little face scrunch as she slept. He found himself smiling down at her…until she began to squirm, and her face crumpled. All the signs of incipient fussing came rushing back to him, and hurriedly he stood and jiggled her, then walked the living room with her, since only one arm meant he couldn’t switch her position or pat her. By this time her mother had finished and took her from him, clicking her tongue and shushing her. No sooner had the baby gone than the grandmother came from the kitchen, holding a babao fruit, and the mother from his room with one of his mended shirts. The grandmother held up the fruit and patted his cheek. “She will be so good for you.”

“I’m still not eating that,” Ezra said.

The mother, with tears in her eyes, clutched the shirt in her hand and gave him a hug.

They had packed up in a flurry and were on their way out the door, but the granddaughter said, as she followed the other two, “Don’t worry—we will meet your Cee next time we come.” She winked at him. “And we will tell her _all_ your secrets!” And she whisked herself out the door.

“She already knows them!” he said, but of course they were long gone.

He drew back the curtains and watched Cee’s fountain bubbling up in the back courtyard. Their confidence that there was a future for him with Cee, based on nothing logical whatsoever, nevertheless gave him hope.

  



	12. Chapter 12

She had done this a thousand times, so Cee didn’t quite understand the sense of dread she felt coming back into her empty apartment. She carefully tamped down her feelings, closed the door, and set her cases down. The air smelled a little stale, but that was easy enough to fix—open a window, spray some perfume, light a candle, or even cook.

She took her case to the clothes washer and stuffed her laundry in, then set it going. There. That got rid of the eerie silence.

The silence was never eerie at Ezra’s.

Okay. She was _not_ going to spend the whole time she was away from Ezra—because she was going back, she’d promised—thinking about him. That was silly. She had to get the literacy distribution together, and she had to give some thought to finding herself a different role in all of that. She needed to think about giving Glin something more to do—he was criminally underused as merely her assistant. And after this trip was over, she needed to know what she was going to say to Ezra, whom she loved.

She wondered if Ezra really thought of her as anything but that annoying person who interrupted his life and ran away from his morning-person garrulousness. Obviously he was fond of her, but fondness was not exactly the kind of thing a man changed the entire course of his life for.

And here she was, standing holding the detergent box, doing nothing but thinking of Ezra. She firmly put the box back on the shelf. Enough of that.

Although she lay awake for a long time that night, definitely not thinking about Ezra’s eyes, or the arc of his nose, or the dimple in his right cheek, or the warmth of laying her head on his shoulder, or the quiet feeling of happiness of just being in the room—in the house—with him, she did eventually fall asleep, and actually had to wake to the tinny alarm.

She hadn’t thought much about her own role in her business, but she had come to a decision about Glin. She had hoped when she walked into the office suite she could speak to him right away, but there was another gathering in the meeting room. She had hoped to slip inside, but everyone turned and looked as she came in.

She smiled. “Go on, please.” She made a shooing motion. Her employees turned back to their gathering, awkwardly, but Glin came over to her.

“Do you need something, ma’am?”

“Glin, you must start calling me Cee. I don’t feel like a _ma’am._ ”

Glin looked startled. “Yes, ma— Er, Cee. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“It’s all right, Glin. I just wanted you to know. What’s the celebration for?”

“Lana. She’s getting married.”

“Oh, that’s so nice for her.”

“Yes, I took the liberty of getting her a gift in your name…”

“You always do. I appreciate it.”

Glin smiled weakly. She had told him she appreciated him before, hadn’t she? She plunged ahead. “I’d like to talk to you after this. About the Sector Eight trip.”

“Oh. Okay.” He did not look reassured, but she would explain later. Lana herself brought Cee a piece of whatever dessert they were using to celebrate, and it was pretty good. was induced to produce photographs of her betrothed, and once Cee had oohed and aahed, all the employees had gathered around her and explaining the wedding and honeymoon plans. She caught Glin looking bewildered once and wondered if that look was for her.

  


  


  
“You’ve done all the planning for this trip, Glin," she said when he came into her office later. "What do you say to being part of it?”

“Part of it?” Cee could see he bit off the _ma’am._ “What do you mean? Come along?”

“Yes. Wouldn’t you like to see how all of this actually works? Travel yourself? See what children get our materials?”

“Well…” Glin looked baffled. “I guess I would.”

“Wonderful. Book yourself in, and pack your bags.”

“But…that’s tomorrow.”

“Yes. You can leave early today once you make your reservations on the jumper.”

Obviously Glin had never done anything on impulse. It might be a mistake to bring him along, but her plan would not work otherwise.

  


  


  
The jumper was deemed safe enough for the journey to Sector Eight, but no one was sure if it would be safe to get out again. Nevertheless, Glin actually showed up, on time but sweating profusely. Cee tried to calm his nerves with small talk but he continued to look extremely uncomfortable. She hoped this hadn’t been a bad idea.

Finally he seemed calm enough to fall asleep, and Cee closed her eyes too. She thought of the trip she’d taken to Kamrea with Anteo to try to find where her family had lived while her mother was still alive. She’d had nothing to go on but very vague memories and her last conversations with her father, so she never found anything that connected her to the past or to her mother.

Anteo took this very much in stride. He was a born floater, Cee supposed. But she should have known by the way he humored her that he was not terribly interested in what she might find.

Why had she been so fixated on him anyway?

Why had she thought he’d really stay with her? Mere wishful thinking? Supposing that he must have the same dreams of stability that she had?

_And why,_ she asked herself sternly, _do you think Ezra is any different?_

Well, because he was _Ezra._ There was no one else like Ezra, and he had not let her down yet.

An image of the Green came suddenly to mind: herself on the ground on her back, with the merc on top of her, pressing her helmet against Cee’s, unblinking like an animal. And Ezra not backing down from demanding the only thing Cee wanted—to get off the moon and back to the freighter. Ezra kneeling beside her in solidarity. Ezra staying faithful to their agreement, not abandoning it for greed. Ezra pulling her to her feet again.

She would never doubt Ezra’s loyalty.

Whether Ezra loved her, though…that was entirely different.

  



	13. Chapter 13

Ezra didn’t even bother to make jav the morning of his meeting, just threw a few things in a bag and set out to catch a jumper to Lao.

He put his head back in the seat and closed his eyes.

And thought of Cee.

It was inevitable, he supposed. Something always brought her back to him. He had a lot to think about, so he guessed he might as well start.

His thoughts jumped around like insects, a pretty good reflection of his feelings.

The image of her—the feel of her—tucked against his side, the part he was missing, the part he needed…

_No job too gritty… ___

_Number Two was more like a utility than a partner. Seems your father treated you the same way._

Was that what he wanted? Was this what he was asking of Cee? To be a utility to assuage the loneliness of a crippled old man? To be a tool for him against the harshness of life?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know. 

_You know, eventually you’re gonna have to trust me,_ he’d said. And oh, she had. But had she misplaced that trust? 

He cared for Cee—that he knew. She had been the most faithful friend he could have asked for in the Green, and he never would forget that for as long as he lived. Now, he thought he loved her. But he’d loved Myna, and what he’d felt for his wife had never been this complicated. What _was_ this he felt for Cee? Was he a perverted old lecher, no better than the Sater? Or were they true friends who had come to love each other? Or did she still consider him just a friend—a very _old_ friend? 

He didn’t have any idea where Cee’s feelings were in all of this since she guarded herself behind that wall of reserve. She was fond of him, sure. She was lonely like he was. He burned with anger against that stupid boy who’d left her. He burned with anger against Damon, even now. That woman was worth more than any floater life, any trophy case, far above the price of the Queen’s Lair. Thank Kevva he’d had had the sense to see that.

It had taken losing his arm to bring that truth home. 

And now he was facing down losing her… 

He rubbed his forehead. 

He was really thinking about marrying a woman he’d never even _kissed._ When had he ever taken such care in a relationship? When had he ever _thought_ so much? He’d dived into more than one relationship without benefit of any brain function whatsoever. What had happened to the cheerful hedonist he’d been in his youth? 

The answer was, of course, that this was _Cee._ There was no one like Cee. Nothing had ever happened to him quite like Cee. If he messed up this precious thing he had with her, he would not be able to live with himself. 

His better self, that rarely appearing individual, told him he ought to bow out and let her find someone young and better for her—but damned if he was that stupid. She was not too young or inexperienced to know what else was out there, to know her own mind. If ever there was a clear-minded woman, it was Cee. 

Besides, if Kevva smiled on him and Cee actually wanted him, then making a “noble sacrifice” was nothing more than taking the choice away from her. 

No one was doing that to Cee again if he had anything to say about it, least of all him. 

The jumper came to a smooth stop and the automated voice told him to disembark. He stood and hefted his bag over his good shoulder and disembarked.

__  
_ _

  
Ezra had worked with Carr off and on for years now, and they had a fairly congenial relationship. Carr, a few years younger than Ezra, was reasonably honest and interested in quality products for the mines, not just making deep-cut deals on shoddy merchandise. Like Ezra, he’d been down on the ground with his hands dirty and understood what life was like in the cramped and filthy dark. 

Carr greeted Ezra with a handshake—left-handed—and indicated a seat across the table from his, where the catalogs and order forms Ezra had sent him were laid out and marked up. Carr was deep into choosing the products and prices he needed when there was a knock on his office door. 

“It’s an emergency, sir,” said the white-faced assistant. “Sector Eight, the Queborn Flats Mine. A wall breach.”

Ezra looked up. “Queborn Flats? That’s next to Nissing Creek, isn’t it?” He stood and turned to Carr. “I worked in the Nissing Creek Mine when I was a nipper. Closed now, and filled with water, a lake’s worth. If that wall leads into Nissing Creek, 150 million V of water is crashin’ into your mine.” 

Carr threw down the forms. “Get me a seat on a jumper to Sector Eight,” he told the assistant. 

Ezra hoisted his bag. “Make that two seats.” 

____

__  
_ _


	14. Chapter 14

Cee had been prepared for the town to have forgotten she was coming, since the comms hadn’t been working properly out here for months and no one had showed for the meeting on Blaven V. But she didn’t expect it to be _deserted._ There were no vehicles to be hired to transport their materials at all. There wasn’t even anyone in the public areas of the jumper terminal, which was definitely odd.

“Well,” she said to Glin, sitting down on a bench at the terminal, “do you have comfortable shoes? Looks like we’ll be walking.” She opened her suitcase and pulled out a pair of boots and traded them for her dress shoes. She pulled out a folded backpack and handed it to Glin. “We’ll leave our suitcases here. Pack up your essentials in that. We can carry the basic readers and leave the rest of the books here too. We can have them picked up later.”

She watched Glin swallow hard but he didn’t protest. Good.

Cee rummaged through the information counter at the terminal and came up with a map. “Okay. Looks like there’s a good road to the town proper from here. That will make it easy. Get a drink here while you can, and let’s go.”

This town was the only place in the area with a school, which is why Cee had chosen it as the location where they’d meet. It made her sad though, that as they walked, the condition of the few buildings they passed grew progressively more run-down, steadily less sparkling and technological like the jumper terminal. It was a working-class area, mostly mining, farming, and manufacturing, but she’d discovered there were always more factors at work in economics than met the eye. Cee wondered if Karolclan had anything to do with the downtrodden state of things here.

Glin was lagging behind, so they took a break on a large sun-baked rock along the edge of the road.

“This place is eerie,” Glin said. “Why isn’t anyone around? I keep looking for ghouls to slip out and follow us. Or maybe a plague got everyone, or an attack of large alien creatures.”

“In either case, there would be some bodies lying around,” Cee said matter-of-factly.

Glin looked horrified, and Cee hastened to add, “I read a lot of _fiction,_ Glin.” Not that plagues were fictional. Or Jata Bahlu.

“We’ll find out when we get to town, I suppose,” she added. “We might as well keep moving.”

The sun was heading for the horizon by the time the town came into view. Cee and Glin were hot, dusty, and thirsty, and the town didn’t look terribly comforting, being not much more than a glorified village.

There weren’t any people showing themselves here either, though Cee could have sworn she saw a few curtains twitched aside in the windows that looked out on the gravel street. At least someone came out into the street to greet them.

Or confront them.

It was a girl, probably sixteen, casually toting a long thrower. She didn’t budge as Cee and Glin came closer. She didn’t raise the gun, only said, “And who are you?”

Well, this was all very odd, but Cee answered, composedly, “I’ve come with the books for the children. I’m Cee, and this is Glin. Didn’t anyone tell you I had an appointment?”

The girl looked taken aback. “I heard something about it. But that was months ago. You came after all, with all the tremors and such?”

Cee smiled. “As you see. We couldn’t bring all the books though. We had to leave some at the terminal.”

The girl came closer. Black curls were straggling out of the coil on top of her head, but her clothes were clean and tidy. “Can you show me the books?”

Cee hefted the bag to the ground in front of her and brought out the materials. “For all ages, see? And teaching manuals. Is the teacher here?”

The girl grinned suddenly. “I’m the teacher.”

Cee smiled at her. “And your name?”

“Liz.”

“Where is everyone, Liz? The terminal was all but abandoned.”

Liz was already eyeing the books Glin had set out on the grass. “Big mine accident over in Queborn Flats. Everyone’s there, either waiting for word or trying to help.” She started to say something, then stopped. “But I’m here. I’m the one who picks what to teach anyway.”

“I’m sorry. I suppose there are people you know in the mine?”

“Some. None of my family though, but around here we all pitch in to help when there’s a problem. We’re waiting to hear if any of them survived.”

Cee had noticed some small heads peeking out of various doorways. “And you’re here with _all_ the kids from town…?”

Liz looked around. “From town and wherever else.” But she didn’t gesture for them to come out.

Cee explained the materials and the course and offered to go over a sample lesson with Liz. By now she had warmed up a bit, and Cee ventured to say, “I see you have a genuine Floater’s Comfort. I had one of those myself.” She nodded at Liz’s gun.

Liz looked up sharply.

“It used to be my job to clean the rails and the filter each time we unpacked it.”

Liz looked back down at the materials. “I never had to pack it. I’m not a floater, lived here my whole life. Started teaching five years ago.”

Cee stifled a sigh. Another child with no childhood. But at least Liz hadn’t had to go to the mines.

“What happened to your thrower?”

“What was that?”

“What happened to your Floater’s Comfort?” Liz asked.

Cee smiled a little. “You know, I’m not sure. I suppose it’s somewhere back on the Green. I picked up a handgun instead.”

Liz nodded. “My uncle went to the Green during the Rush. He never came back.”

“I was one of the lucky ones,” Cee said. “I didn’t realize how lucky.”

Really, she could not spend the whole time away from Ezra thinking about him. She had to stop.

By now the children had come swarming out of the buildings and were shoving each other to get a look at the books, which Glin was trying to pretend he wasn’t guarding. Cee had Liz organize the kids to sit on the grass while Cee read them one of the books. Then she promised Liz she would stick around however long she needed to ease them into the process.

It turned out that the rest of the town, the elderly or otherwise not able-bodied, had organized community meals, and two of them offered housing for Cee and Glin. Glin was led off looking rather uncomfortable, but Cee got to sleep—and she slept, too—on a parlor sofa under a tasseled handwoven blanket. It wasn’t Ezra’s couch or Ezra’s blanket, but it was okay for a few nights.

By the second day, Cee had a system in place and functioning. The materials had been retrieved from the terminal, and the group assembled in the grass in the center of town. (The school building could be used if it rained, but the children seemed so much happier and eager with their coats on, or wrapped in a blanket, soaking up sunshine.)

Cee demonstrated the lesson, then let Liz go to work expounding on it (better than Cee did, really). The older children who could read got new books they could read at the periphery of the gathering, and she and Glin worked with the younger children who weren’t quite up to the level of the lesson.

This was by far Cee’s favorite part. She was sitting cross-legged on the ground explaining the sound each letter makes to one little girl of perhaps six. She was chewing on a hank of hair and looking blank. Cee tried not to push the kids too hard—it was enough of an adjustment to be herded into town and sleep in a strange bed—or more likely, a pallet—while your parents went away for days on end. She was sure some of the kids were already AWOL. Maybe this one even had a relative down in the mine.

But to Cee’s surprise, the little one suddenly climbed into Cee’s lap and settled herself comfortably. “Now,” she said, “I can _pay attention._ ” And she did.

If only every child had a safe person’s lap to climb into to learn.

When the day was done and the children had been released to their evening chores, Cee directed Glin to clean up and took Liz aside. “How do you think all this is working?”

Liz looked surprised and pleased to be consulted. “It’s a short-term fix,” she said, “though short-term is better than no fix at all. And I think I can make it work, especially for the younger ones. There’s no money for supplies here anymore, and the younger ones hate taking hand-me-downs from the older ones.”

Cee, listening to her go on, was impressed with the resilience of the girl. Forced to shoulder the town’s responsibility at how old? Twelve?... That sounded very familiar. And here she was loving these kids and doing her very best to give them a good start in life… Did she have any bitterness? Any dreams for herself that might never come true?

And then Cee found herself thinking of Ezra’s chatty technique, and began to ask Liz the sort of questions Cee would at one time have considered Ezra-levels of nosy. And Liz began to talk and open up about her life like a flower blossoming.

Ezra knew a thing or two. She wished he were here with her.

  



	15. Chapter 15

The scene of the mine disaster was chaos. The perimeter of the mine property aboveground was technically taped off (although Ezra saw a half dozen alternative ways to enter at a glance), but Carr got them through security with ease.

“Nineteen men and one woman cut off by the flood from the old Nissing Creek mine,” said a harried-looking woman who ran up to Carr, apparently well known to him. By the look of her she did clerical duties, maybe checking timeclocks and scheduling, but knew mining herself. She glanced at Ezra and acknowledged him with a nod. “The assumption is that if they’re not dead, they’ve holed up in the highest part of the mine. The district officials are on their way with the satellite maps, and we’re working with the paper one to pinpoint their location.”

“What’s being done to pump the water out?” Carr asked.

“The foreman’s trying to track down more pumps,” said the woman. “But this volume of water…not all the mines in the area can supply enough pumps to suck that water out fast enough. And now the politicians are coming and we’ll soon have a media circus and red tape and people giving half-assed, contradictory orders…”

Ezra stopped, and Carr stopped and turned with him. “Carr, can you get me a secure comm line, a satellite line? I have contacts. You bring me a list of supplies and I’ll just call and raise hell until I get what you need.”

Carr gave him one long glance, then said, “Okay. Kenda, you can trust this man. Get him set up, whatever he wants.”

They hurried through the chaos, including tarp tents, ear-splitting, smelly generators powering spotlights, workers with maps in hand searching the grass hundreds of feet above the mine for markers, huge machinery coming onsite for drilling, large haulers with flatbeds…and people, dozens of people. Ezra wondered who exactly they were and how they’d been allowed in. This territory had a strong Karolclan presence and he was deeply suspicious of what intel they could gather in an uncontrolled environment like this. Not to mention if they chose to incite violence.

Kenda was saying the families of the miners had been gathered offsite in a building where they’d be briefed on developments—and where they couldn’t see the devasting height of the flood at the mine entrance adit. What appeared to be local law enforcement were trying to persuade a woman away from the site, and she was refusing loudly, declaring that her man was down there and she wasn’t leaving until he came up. She had acquired a folding chair, and she sat in it as the officers drew closer. Just as Ezra passed by, she drew a gun from her pocket and leveled it at the police. They backed off, and she settled into her chair, apparently for the duration.

Kenda sighed. “She’ll be here till they bring him up, dead or alive.”

“Gotta admire a woman like that,” Carr said.

Naturally a woman like that put Ezra in mind of Cee.

  


  


  
As soon as the secure satellite line was functional, Ezra called two manufacturers and a transport service and wheedled for aid. Then he made another call, and the modulated voice answered.

“This is Number One, repeat: Number One. I need you at Queborn Flats, Sector Eight. Bring any and all high-volume pumps, both air compressors and water pumps. Size 14 and 16 drill bits—fabrication equipment authorized if necessary. Two to three drill rigs. Rescue capsule. Equipment should arrive from varying untraceable sources. If personnel come, keep faces covered. I suspect Karolclan presence. Repeat: keep faces covered. Stay prepared for further instructions if necessary. Clear?”

A pause, then the modulated voice said: “Clear, Number One.”

Ezra looked up as someone entered the tent. Carr stilled, and the two men stared at each other. Then Carr nodded once, slowly, and went out the way he’d come.

  


  


It was late by now, completely dark, though the spotlights kept the area above the breach well lit. People milled like ants around the spot where they were drilling—above the highest elevation of the mine--to see if they could hear the miners below. Ezra wondered if anyone actually knew whether the water level was low enough for this. What if they tapped into the air pocket and exhausted it?

Someone had built a small tarp tent around the Vigil Woman. A chill had descended with nightfall, and Ezra noticed that a canteen tent had been set up for the volunteers. It boasted nothing yet but huge steel urns of hot beverages on rickety folding tables, but that was exactly what Ezra needed. He got a steaming cup of jav, then just as he was about to drink it, thought again and took it out to the Vigil Woman. She thanked him, unsmiling, not making eye contact, with the gun across her knees. Ezra returned to the tent and got himself the jav, wishing he’d brought his coat. Wishing the weather was more like Lao’s. Wishing he was having a nice swim—or at least a nice float—in the warm sun.

Ezra looked down at the lights, knowing that if any of those miners were still alive below him, they were cold, wet, and losing hope. Probably turning off their headlamps to conserve power. Holding on to any other survivors, huddled together for warmth in a shaft that was barely high enough for them to kneel in.

Ezra made his way down to the drill site, wondering too how much of the conversation with Number Four that Carr had heard, and how far he could trust him. He thought he and Carr had a good understanding, but...if he’d blown Number Four’s secret himself over these twenty miners he didn’t know and prevented the group from saving untold others in the future…

Carr was standing by while someone was lowering a sound-sensing device down the shaft they’d just drilled. Someone whacked a huge spanner against the shaft, and every ear leaned in toward the shaft. A faint tap came in reply, and a cheer went up, but Carr soon shushed them as they listened intently. Two, three, four…nine, ten, eleven…eighteen, nineteen, twenty. Twenty miners alive.

A roar of celebration burst out, and Ezra smiled, but he wandered closer to the drill hole.

“Carr!” He hailed the mine supplier. “Look,” he said quietly, “I don’t know when your bigwig scientists are gettin’ here. I don’t know how much air’s down in there, what the pressure is. But air’s gonna leak around that drill hole. You gotta patch that up, brother, and get some air pumped back down in there. You got some compressors? Get ’em goin’. Get that air pocket shored up.”

“I just got word,” Carr said, eyeing Ezra, “that a high-volume compressor will be on our doorstep in a few minutes. Kevva bless.”

Ezra nodded. “Get it workin’,” he said. He walked back up to the command tent and heard another cheer go up as four massive water pumps arrived. And more would come soon. His own crew at work. Now it was time to put his one arm to work too, along with three dozen other volunteers, to lay the hose and pipes to pump that water level down far enough for a rescue shaft to be drilled. It would be good to save some lives for once instead of taking them.

  


  


_\+ + +_

  


  


The community meals in the town were impressive, but not because there was anything fancy, or well organized, or bountiful about them. What made an impact on Cee was the assumption that of course they would pitch in together, of course they would work as a team to take care of one another. Of course they would pool their resources.

 _The exact opposite of the Green,_ Cee thought. She wasn’t going to start (or, to be more accurate, continue) pining for Ezra, but she did allow herself one more grateful reflection that it was Number Two that her father had killed and not his partner. She still occasionally had nightmares about what might have happened if anyone else on that moon had found her.

Cee helped set up the tables for supper in the assembly hall, then hauled the folding chairs over to each table. The town’s resources didn’t stretch so far as tablecloths, and Cee wiped down each one with a cloth. Good smells began to permeate the room, and soon the bell was rung for everyone to assemble. Cee and a handful of elderly people helped the littlest children get their food and carry a plate to a spot at a table.

Suddenly there was a gasp and a murmur as a young boy, about twelve, came running into the front of the room.

“All twenty alive!” he shrilled, and a cheer went up. But when everyone had quieted, he said, “But now they have to find a way to get them out.”

  



	16. Chapter 16

Ezra was careful to keep in the periphery of the rescue once the local officials, experts, media, and bureaucrats showed up. Someone had been handing out coats and boots so he snagged what he needed for himself. Now there were close to a hundred people on the site, running rigs and compressors and fabrication lines right on the mud on the site. He threw his back into wherever labor was needed, slept some on a cot in the comm tent, and made calls and pulled strings for supplies and parts as Kenda brought requests. Sometimes he took a break for jav and a sandwich. Once he came back to find his bag had been riffled through, even though there was nothing of value, or even anything very personal in it—just a change of clothes, a razor and toiletries, a portfolio of supply offerings, that kind of thing. 

The days had begun to run together. Three days now since the wall breach? Or four? A rescue shaft made with Number Four’s drill bit had been partially dug, but water levels were not yet low enough for the rescue shaft to penetrate the full three hundred feet to where they hoped all twenty miners were still alive, without food or drinking water or heat.

And yet Ezra had begun to understand that being down here on the ground, with three days’ worth of mud caking his boots and any number of urgent tasks to perform, had his blood pumping like handing out supply catalogs never did. He’d been so reluctant to participate in anything resembling the Green that perhaps he’d gone too far.

  


_\+ + +_

  
Cee and Liz had been shooed out of the kitchen dishwashing area and out into the assembly room, where one table had been left standing. Cee snagged them a couple of cups of jav and spared a thought for Ezra. She wondered how much of the huge sack had been consumed since she’d been gone, if he was eating anything besides sausages, and if he had finished his book yet.

Abruptly she scolded herself and brought her thoughts back to what Liz was saying.

“…see that it wasn’t really for nothing after all. Thank you for encouraging me,” she said softly.

“I have something for you,” Cee said, rummaging through her satchel. She handed Liz the book.

“ _The Streamer Girl_?” Liz said, flipping through it.

“It’s not, perhaps, the most _realistic_ novel,” Cee said, smiling. “But, you know, realism isn’t always the point of a story, is it? Sometimes you can find great and beautiful ideas that you can aspire to live by. And sometimes it’s just the joy you find in exploring and dreaming of something different than your own experience.”

“Thank you.” Liz’s face lit up.

“When I get back, I’ll send you the sequel too.” Cee winked. “It’s even better than the first one.”

  



	17. Chapter 17

Once again, they’d have to walk the road between the town and the terminal. Cee and Glin helped each other get their packs on their backs and then headed out into the morning sun. It felt good, since the ground was frosty. Cee was glad for the long trip, because she had wanted to hear Glin’s thoughts without anyone to interrupt.

“Are you glad you came?” she asked him, when the last straggling house was behind them.

There was a long pause. Cee was learning that Glin thought a lot more than he spoke, which was not a bad trait to have.

“Yes,” Glin said finally. “I’m not terribly keen on hiking, or sleeping in an uncomfortable bed in a stranger’s house, but I liked the part with the books and the kids.”

“The most important part,” Cee agreed. “This was pretty unusual, but, Glin, we give out these materials to kids who don’t have much. It’s not going to be really comfortable if you’re used to having a nicer life.”

Glin nodded. “I know you’re right, ma— Cee. I guess I’m just more suited for making appointments and keeping track of employees’ sick days.”

“You know, Glin, that’s as much a part of this business as distributing materials.”

He shot her a glance. “I always thought you kind of despised that.”

“I don’t despise it on principle. I don’t like _doing_ it. That’s why I’m grateful that you’re so good at it. So I don’t have to be.”

“Oh,” he said. “Thank you?”

Cee laughed. “It _was_ a compliment, Glin. Savor it.”

He laughed too.

It wasn’t as easy to draw Glin out with the Ezra method as it had been with Liz, but Cee was glad she made the attempt. He was a lot more than the somewhat timorous assistant she’d always assumed he was, and she was ashamed of how she’d misjudged him all these years.

“Uh-oh. Looks like my ghouls are here,” Glin said as they approached the jumper terminal. Indeed the place was transformed into a hive of activity, ringed with small satellite dishes, portable spotlights, generators, and tents, and sprinkled with media personnel with microphones milling about.

“Must be coverage of the mine disaster?” Cee mused, as they edged their way into the building and through two lines of security.

“They’re bringing the miners up from the mine now,” said one security guard, obviously a local. “All twenty! It looks like they actually carried this thing off!”

“Better get moving,” said her partner to Glin and Cee, scowling. “This is the last jumper out. Tremors are getting bad up there,” he said, indicating the heavens. “From here on out, you’d be taking a freighter.”

  


_\+ + +_

  
It was the fourth day, someone said. Ezra didn’t know. He hadn’t even made it to the cot in the comm tent but fell asleep in a field chair for an hour? Two? Before a roar of cheering went up and woke him. He ran down to the site, which was packed with lights and media and emergency vehicles by the dozen. “What happened?” he demanded of a worker whose face looked vaguely familiar. Hab was his name, maybe? They had probably been on the same crew guiding the auxiliary water pumping apparatus into shafts into the lower mine the day before.

“First rescue capsule coming up,” the man said. Each filthy-faced and dripping miner came up to wild applause before being eased onto a stretcher and taken to an emergency vehicle. Down the capsule went, up came another miner. The minutes stretched into hours.

“Ezra.”

Ezra found Carr beside him. “Tremors are bad. If you want to get out of the sector, the last jumper goes in a half hour. Otherwise, you’re stuck here or you’ll have to take the freighter back, maybe a week’s travel with the flares. I’m going. Coming with?”

Just then the final capsule emerged from the ground. Vigil Woman gave a cry and threw herself on the stretcher with her man.

“Wish I had a woman like that,” said Hab.

“Wish I did too,” said Carr.

“I do have one like that,” said Ezra, “if she wants me. And I’m going home to her now.”

But as he and Carr hitched a ride to the jumper terminal, it occurred to Ezra that Cee would not have sat vigil for him if he were buried alive.

She’d have been the one directing the rescue efforts.

And she’d have gone down and stuffed him into that rescue capsule with her own two hands.

  



	18. Chapter 18

It looked to Cee like this jumper had been used to transport equipment rather than people. Mining supplies were everywhere, with large bins strapped into the back area. The passenger areas were pretty filthy too, as though no one had cleaned this jumper in a long time.

Glin scrubbed their seats off with a handkerchief and they settled in at last. Even Cee had to admit it was nice to take a load off her feet.

Suddenly Cee became aware of faint shouting outside. “What’s that?” Cee asked, standing up.

“The light says to stay seated,” Glin said, pointing to the front of the passenger area.

She peeked out the thick window. “Someone’s trying to catch the jumper!” Cee said. Whoever it was, she admired their courage. She opened the first airlock, then the second, above Glin’s protests.

“Let’s go! Help me grab them!” She anchored herself with a strap between the doors and got on her hands and knees to grab the first man’s hand.

Glin had followed her lead and stabilized himself as well, and he leveraged the man into the craft.

“Come on!” Cee shouted to the second man, who was not moving as fast. And, unless she was mistaken, and she couldn’t be—

  


_\+ + +_

  
Ezra was definitely too old for this.

He ditched his bag—he didn’t even know why he’d bothered to collect it--and made one last dive for the hand, and more hands grabbed him and hauled him in, first through one and then through the second airlock. He felt the jumper accelerate.

And there was Cee, the one holding his hand. He wasn’t even surprised at this point.

“Why, hello, Cee…. Seems like you’re always helpin’ me into…the last train out of town.”

“What are you doing in Sector Eight, Ezra?” she asked, smiling all over her face as she pulled him to his feet.

“We were at the site of the mining accident,” said Carr while Ezra caught his breath and looked around. This jumper, currently achieving liftoff, looked more like a transport than a passenger jumper, with mining equipment and supplies scattered everywhere. “We couldn’t have done it without him. All twenty miners saved before the last call for nonresidents to get out.” He smiled and stuck out his hand. “I’m Carr.”

Cee, who, Ezra had noticed, had kept on holding his hand, let go of it to shake Carr’s. “I’m Cee. This is Glin.” She indicated the boy behind her before turning back to Ezra. “So you came here in the middle of all this chaos to save miners?”

“You came here in the middle of all this chaos to give kids books?”

She smiled at him again. “I guess it’s all about investing in living, isn’t it?”

Carr was looking back and forth between them with interest, but before he could say anything, the automated voice reminded them to be seated and belted in while they exited the atmosphere. But no sooner had they endured the rattling that transitioned into the relative calm of space than the jumper shied violently. A noise came from the cockpit, then silence and a sinking sensation.

“We’re not jumping,” said Carr.

“We’re heading for that moon,” Glin said.

Ezra closed his eyes. He was not ready for more complications. He just wanted a nap, a bath, and maybe something to eat. And to be with Cee. He was a simple man.

There was no time to do anything more than brace for impact, though the rough landing was not really a crash. But something definitely wasn’t right.

“We need to get into the cockpit and see what’s going on,” Carr said.

No sooner had he spoken than a tremor struck the moon—and the ship--and made it shudder violently. Ezra swore. They really, really needed to get out of this sector. They were utterly exposed here on this rock.

“Something’s happening in there,” Carr said, his ear to the door of the cockpit. Ezra was just approaching the door when it slid open suddenly. A massive fist crashed into Carr’s temple and knocked him to the floor. One of the largest men Ezra had ever seen emerged—far larger than Number Two—and the first thing he did was take Ezra by the throat and lift him off his feet.

“It’s you,” he said. “You’re the one who called in Number Four at the mine this week, wasn’t it? Ezra, you’re calling yourself, but the real name is _Damon,_ is it not?”

Ezra couldn’t help the way his eyes widened but he did not look at Cee.

“We found your name in a contract. Was it you that killed the four mercs we hired on Bakhroma Green, freed our prisoner, and rode our ship back to Puggart Bench… _Damon_?”

The hand squeezed and Ezra struggled to get breath. Already his head felt like it was going to implode from lack of oxygen.

And then…the man crumpled to the floor. Cee stood over him with one of the mining shovels that had been lying near the cockpit door.

Ezra staggered when he hit the floor, then coughed and gagged for a few moments as Cee gasped, “Is he from Karolclan, Ezra?”

“Appears so,” he rasped, straightening unsteadily. He looked down at the man and sighed. “Rope, I suppose, Cee?”

“Yes, Ezra, only rope.” She took his hand and squeezed it briefly. “We’re done with the ways of the Green. Let’s hurry before he comes to.” They sorted through the various cargo crates stacked haphazardly in the back of the jumper. “I guess your charade worked too well,” she whispered. “Who would have thought Karolclan kept such good records? What if they send someone else to look for us?”

And, Ezra wondered, how far had Number Four been compromised?

Before Ezra could answer, they heard the sound of the airlock closing, then the second. Carr came back through, the large Karolclan member gone.

Cee’s eyes widened. “Did you just throw him out? There’s no atmosphere!”

“That guy was at the mine. I figured out who he was. I don’t abide Karolclan,” Carr said. “And anyone who thwarts them is fine by me.” He looked at Ezra and gave his usual nod.

The sound of Glin quietly throwing up into the jumper’s sickbag came to their ears.

“Well now,” Ezra said cheerfully, abandoning the search for rope, “if we all act with such expeditiousness, we’ll certainly achieve a successful end to our venture.”

Cee stopped to check on Glin—that was kind of her. Ezra had almost forgotten that there were people out there for whom killing was a novelty. “Look,” Carr said, indicating the cockpit.

Speaking of, the pilot and copilot had been killed by the Karolclan member and dropped in the corner.

“So how exactly do we propose gettin’ off this rock?” Ezra asked. A number of warnings flashed on the control panel of the jumper, and he went to investigate. _“Engine Failure.”_ He quickly ran the diagnostic that pinpointed the problem. “Anyone know how to fix this? That fellow must have perpetuated some kind of mischief on it when landin’ us here.”

“The repair itself is easy,” Carr said after taking a look. “The problem is that you have to take _the whole engine_ apart in a major facility just to get to that area.”

A tremor shook the ship and Ezra swore. He sat down and commed for help, though he knew no one would answer, and then tried to start the jumper. Nothing happened and the warnings just kept flashing. “Well, we can’t just wait here to _die._ ”

“Let me see that engine schematic,” Cee said.

Ezra looked through the various other warnings, but the engine failure was obviously most important. He swore again. There was no way to get around that kind of thing and here on this bare moon there was no chance of surviving the tremors.

Cee was digging around through the storage areas in the cockpit and came out with another manual that she paged through.

“Hey, Glin!” Ezra called. “I don’t suppose you know anything about repairin’ jumpers?”

“No, sir,” came the faint reply.

“Carr?”

“You can’t fix that problem in the middle of space,” Carr repeated.

“Yes,” Cee said, “we can. I can. I can go into the engine and make that repair if we can find a suit for me.”

There was stunned silence for several seconds.

“You can’t go _inside the engine,_ ” said Carr. “Tell her, Ezra.”

Ezra said nothing, just stared at this beautiful, courageous, resourceful, capable woman. She stood there looking back at him with those big hazel eyes and those soft, full lips, and he was a _goner._ He had been in a bad way before, but now he gave up the last semblance of doubt with nary a whimper. He was glad to.

“You know I can work in small spaces, Ezra,” she said softly. “These jumpers are usually outfitted with space suits for emergencies, but we’d have to make sure they’re really safe, since they’re probably old.”

He blinked, swallowed, and reached for his self-control. “You know how to make the repair, Cee?”

“I think so. The engine’s very much like the standard R-202, right?”

Carr nodded.

“All right then. Let’s find the suit,” Ezra said.

They found the regulation two suits, and Cee climbed into the smaller one. She would have headed out right away, but Ezra insisted on going over it inch by inch, and adding surgical tape from the supply bins to any part that looked dubious.

Carr found her a bag for the tools she would need, and Ezra hooked up the tubes and tether she’d need for the “walk” to the engine.

“You’re sure you want to do this, Cee?” he asked softly. “It’s not just climbin’ into that engine—it’s that old suit, and the tremors, and what if it’s more complicated than the schematic shows?”

“Ezra,” she whispered, “we simply don’t have a choice.”

“All right,” he said, latching her helmet and checking the cam-light combo and tying the tether in a triple knot, and then another knot lower down just to be safe. “Comm workin’?”

She keyed it. “Comm working.”

“You come in if it looks hopeless, or if the tremors get too dangerous, clear?”

“Clear,” she said, smiling up at Ezra in a way that made him dizzy. “I’ll be okay.”

They helped her out the airlock, and Ezra bit back every irrational and sentimental objection. Cee knew what she was doing as well as anyone else here and they had no chance without her. But seeing her disappear along the edge of the jumper into the blackness did him absolutely no good.

“Damn,” said Carr, looking at Ezra. “You _do_ have a woman _like that._ To the tenth power.”

“I pray I do,” Ezra said, looking blankly at the door.

  



	19. Chapter 19

They had shut down every function of the ship except life support so that no extra currents ran into the engines. Carr had the comm with Cee because of his engine expertise, so there was nothing for Ezra to do but sit down in a passenger seat and wait.

“Are you Cee’s…love interest? Boyfriend? Lover?” the boy asked.

Ezra looked up.

“Glin, is it?”

He nodded.

“I’m Ezra.” He offered his hand and Glin shook it tentatively. “That is interestin’ terminology. Now what makes you ask me a question like that?”

He shrugged. “The way you looked at her just now. Like you were going to kneel down and worship at her shrine.”

Ezra chuckled slowly. “Well, truth be told, Glin, I love Cee and I hope one day she’ll consent to bein’ my wife, but to the issue of whether I am anything specific to _her_ —that is a question she alone can answer.” He tried not to think about those massive sheets of metal in the engine slicing through her.

Glin nodded again. “She told me about you.” He gave Ezra a side-eye. “Even though she never said a word.”

“I see you know her well.”

“Not really.” Glin sighed. “But she’s been different since she was gone. She was with you?”

The boy was nosy but Ezra was too anxious about Cee to snub him, so he nodded. He closed his eyes and prayed Cee would not make a misstep. And that a huge tremor would not hit while she was in there.

“She’s happier. She smiles. She’s interested in people. She treats me like a real person instead of just an assistant. It’s like she’s finally alive. Something happened with you that changed her.”

“Listen, Glin. If you are suggestin’ that any of those qualities are effected by a one-armed, washed-up prospector, you are foolin’ yourself. That’s just Cee.”

“I don’t think so. You say that because you only see her when she’s with you,” Glin explained. “From my point of view, something—or someone—motivated that change, sir, and I think it must have been you.”

At that moment there was a clang outside the airlock, and Ezra was on his feet.

She staggered through the second airlock, and Ezra caught her while Carr closed the door. Ezra helped her take the helmet off and sit down, then wrestle the suit off.

“I did it,” she said, beaming. She had the cutest dimples when she smiled that big. “Let’s try to start it.”

All four of them rushed into the cockpit.

And stood there.

“Ezra?” Cee prompted.

“This is a two-handed flight stick.”

Ezra looked at Carr, but he only shrugged. “I just do engines.”

Glin looked helpless.

“Looks like it’s you, Ezra,” Cee said.

“Cee—”

“Ezra, I can follow a flight manual for a drop pod, but I can’t pilot a jumper. If I remember right, you once had a Testin screamer. If you can pilot that, you can do this. I’ll sit in the copilot chair and you just tell me what to do.”

“Cee,” he said, feeling his temper shredding, “last time we tried bluffin’ our way through somethin’ I can’t do anymore, we just about ended up dead.”

“We can’t do nothing. We’ll end up dead if we _don’t try._ Please, Ezra.” A tremor rocked the jumper. “Let’s go.”

“We’ll help as much as we can,” said Carr behind him. Glin murmured agreement. “I know what the controls are for,” Carr added. “I just never piloted.”

Cursing, Ezra sat in the pilot seat. He turned the starter, and the warnings disappeared and the engines roared to life.

He paused. “Damn, Cee, if you didn’t save our skins.”

“And we’re going to do it again,” she said, looking over and holding his gaze.

Kevva bless. She was stuffing him into the rescue capsule with her own two hands right now.

He put on the headphones and started rattling off instructions to her, and with help from Carr, she carried out every one.

  



	20. Chapter 20

As if the tremors weren’t enough, the flares delayed their jump twice, and fortunately Ezra held back in the nick of time. By the time they had jumped, and then finally hit the atmosphere of Lao, where the force of entry knocked them back in their seats and rattled the turbines and flames shot up around the craft, Ezra was starting to see black spots sparkling across the periphery of his vision. It had been a very long day, lasting roughly four, but he had to hold it together until they landed.

He shouted instructions to Cee about communicating with the landing pad, heard Carr’s voice—yelled instructions to Cee on prepping for landing, potential violent impact. Something felt wrong, like they were unbalanced, but he couldn’t see the control panel well enough now to sort through the flashing indicators. His gut was probably a better guide anyway. The steering yoke was resisting him in a way it shouldn’t and it took all his strength to fight the jumper into the proper angle.

“We’re losin’ altitude too fast, see if you can align those thrusters!” he shouted. He wasn’t sure he needed to yell, but there was a lot of noise in his ears. “On my mark, engage the landin’ gear: 3-2- _go!_ ”

“Landing gear failed,” Cee said. “Thrusters offline.” Ezra could hear that she was afraid, though her voice was even. “What do we do?”

“Brace for the landin’ gear to sheer off,” he said as the shaking of the craft grew more violent. “Get me some brakeage with the secondary Baas converter, but run the surge _in reverse_ through the combustion coolant system as fast as you can. _Now!_ ” He heard Carr and Cee speaking in a low tone but it was all he could do to maintain his grip on the flight stick. It was responding, sluggishly, but there was simply too much force propelling them. He braced one foot on the console and wrapped his whole arm around the yoke and threw his body weight into it, fighting to keep them level. He felt the first converter thrust, weak and probably not effective enough--

_Impact._

He’d kept the nose up enough that when the landing gear crumpled with a scream of metal, they skidded, rocking, on the jumper’s belly. The backward converter thrust kicked in again and worked to slow them, but also spun them helplessly until the friction ground them to a halt, plowed into the soft ground a hundred yards from the end of the landing pad.

All in one piece. At least, the people were. Ezra wasn’t so sure about the jumper.

A wave of numbness swept over him, temporarily knocking out his hearing. He saw Carr and Glin and Cee stand and hug each other, then leave the cockpit. Cee came to stand over him, her lips moving, but it didn’t register. She offered him her hand and pulled him up to his feet, but he hadn’t gone more than two steps when his knees went, and he crashed to the floor of the cockpit.

His vision went black too for a tick, then his hearing came back, but only to hear Cee saying his name faintly through a roar and pressing a bottle against his lips. He drank, not taking his eyes off her while the blackness around her receded. She waited for him to swallow, then tipped the bottle against his lips again.

“…it been since you ate or drank anything?”

He closed his eyes against the dizziness. “I had a sandwich and jav…sometime? I was busy, Cee,” he said, with all the dignity he could muster. “Are we on fire?”

She put her hand on his head gently before she said, “No, Ezra. You saved us.” Then she disappeared into the passenger area. He heard her exchange words with someone. Two people came in for the pilots’ bodies (he hoped Carr had thought up a good story for all that), then Cee came back with something that looked like a repurposed Bits Bar and some kind of first aid drink. Well, it was no more than he deserved, and he ate it obediently, and even held the squeeze packet himself. When he finished, he put his head back against the wall. Whatever was in the drink rocketed through him, and he felt reasonably human again.

“You look terrible,” Cee said. She brushed his hair back off his forehead. “You smell about the same as you look. I suppose you were out there saving miners at Queborn Flats from the very beginning of the breach?”

“Me and about a hundred others.”

“And probably not sleeping any more than you ate?” She kissed his temple. “I want to hear about it later,” she said. She moved onto his lap and curled her arms around his neck. “I missed you.”

This was…not what he’d expected. His arm, however, went around her like that was what it had been made for.

Maybe he was hallucinating. “How old was that Bits Bar, C—”

She was kissing him, and Kevva help, he was giving as good as he got and then some. He probably blacked out again at some point just from sheer wonder, but he found he was able to say, when he had his mouth to himself again, “I’m old, Cee, but I love you, and if you’re willin’ to throw yourself away on—”

She put her fingers over his lips to stop him.

“On the man who respected a scared and vulnerable young girl? On the man who kept his word? On the only man who’s ever understood me? On you, with your puppy dog eyes and your generosity and the pathetic holes in your socks and how your hair curls around your ears and the way you believe in me and how you can’t stop talking, even to yourself, and the way you said ‘you can make it, get out of here’---”

Her voice broke. She pressed her smooth cheek against his scruffy one. “A partnership can’t be about _throwing away,_ Ezra. None of that talk. Only about respecting and valuing and loving and---”

“Candid discourse?” he put in.

“That too,” she said with a little sigh that sounded contented.

“As long as we are bein’ candid, what is so endearin’ about holes in my socks, Cee? I don’t understand.”

She giggled. “You’re just going to have to trust me on that one.” She nuzzled his neck. “Ezra, I think I am going to leave the day-to-day work of my company to Glin. I found that I like being on the ground, dealing with the people myself. Teaching the kids and talking to them. I’d like to do that part of the business. But most of the time”—she slid her arms around his ribs—“I’d like to be with you, Ezra. Home with you.”

“I can’t tell you how refreshin’ that sounds to me, Cee. I’ve had a similar epiphany as well: I like gettin’ my hands—my hand—dirty. Pushin’ papers no longer has the appeal it once did.”

She hugged him tighter. “I didn’t think a desk job was for you. Will you—we—stay on Blaven V?”

“I don’t know, Cee. It will all work out.” He closed his eyes.

“You smell _and_ you’re exhausted, Ezra.” Cee extracted herself and stood. “You need a shower, some food, and rest.”

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Ezra said, allowing her to position herself under his left shoulder to help him stand.

“Did I mention that I love you?” she asked. “Because I do. Despite the stink.” She grinned and went for a peck on his cheek, but he was a seasoned enough campaigner to change that into a real kiss, and it wasn’t long until he was the one holding her up.

He smiled down into her face, a little rosy now from his beard and with all her beautiful freckles in evidence, and asked, “Cee, I need to make sure we’re clear: does this mean you’re agreein’ to be partners for life?”

She cupped his face with both her hands. “Yes, really living from now on. Partners for _life,_ Ezra.”

  



	21. Epilogue

Fate really did bring things back around in the end. Cee had made Ezra believe that, whether she meant to or not. He wanted to delve into her thoughts on that topic, but Ezra shook his head—he’d need to wait until she really woke up to have a reasonable conversation. Probably after work. There was something more urgent he wanted to run by her this morning if he got the chance. He struggled a little as usual to get the lid of the jav jar open (the last of Cee’s giant sack), then finally got the brewer going and took a moment to lean against the kitchen counter and reflect some more.

That first moment he knew with certainty that he could trust her—ten years ago, when he put that scalpel in her hand and she looked at him, so searchingly, with those liquid hazel eyes—and then that small hand on his shoulder, so steady, so unwavering…

He didn’t know if she meant to comfort him or if she was just bracing his arm. Likely the latter. But it had comforted him just the same.

Then the seismic shift that leveled the playing field, made them adults on the same footing, though the steadiness in her had never changed.

And not so long ago, the first time in their bed, when she had wrapped herself around him so protectively, like she would fend off with her own body anyone who threatened him when he was most vulnerable—she, who knew exactly what he was, what he had been. He had broken down and cried like a baby afterwards. She could do that to him.

She came around the corner from the hall to their room just then, silently, wearing her fluffy blue robe, and plopped onto the stool where she usually sat. He knew better by now than to talk to her, but he poured a cup of jav and set it in front of her. He stood looking at her, amused by the pink mark still on her cheek from the pillow and those pouty full lips. He’d wanted to kiss them earlier but she had been so fast asleep he hated to wake her.

He was wise enough to wait until she’d drunk the whole cup before he swooped down and kissed her.

“It’s too early for that,” she said.

He drew back, arching an eyebrow. “Why, Cee, is that a challenge?” he drawled softly.

He watched the little smile grow and finally she looked up at him, a sparkle in her eye. The answer, it appeared, was _yes._

He wasn’t sure where, exactly, the child she carried had been conceived, but this time the living room couch was conveniently at hand, although it was not the easiest place for a one-armed man to brace them. She definitely didn’t seem to mind though.

When later she came back to the counter, he poured her a fresh cup and sat down on the stool beside her.

“Please no talking yet,” she said, over the rim of the mug.

“You seemed a little more eager for my company a few minutes ago,” he said with a smirk.

She put the mug down with an exasperated huff. This time he had the satisfaction of knowing her lips were pouty at least in part because they had been well kissed.

“I’ll talk to the baby then.” He rested his hand on her belly. “Papa has to put on his boots now and get to work to earn some money to put away—Bowsun Conservatory, as you know, is not inexpensive—but I’ll be back tonight to tell you a story. And talk to your mother. When she’s not so grumpy.”

Carr was going to raise his eyebrows knowingly when Ezra came in late again, but he really wanted to broach this subject first.

He took Cee’s hand and kissed it because he knew it would melt her, and it did. She looked ready to listen.

“I was thinkin’… Cee, maybe I should get a prosthesis.” He looked at her and then down at their clasped hands again and rushed on. “When the baby comes, I wanna be able to--”

She stood and took him into her arms, pressing his head against her heart. She kissed his hair.

“It was merely an idea,” he said, doing his best to reciprocate with one arm. He didn’t know why she was so emotional, but he suspected it was not because she didn’t want to change all the nappies herself. He couldn’t wait till he could feel the baby move when she held him close like this.

She held him tight, her cheek against his hair, until he said, his voice muffled, “I should have known, Cee, the day I tethered myself to you and we shared our very breath. I should have known this was meant to be.”

  


  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who left kudos and posted comments! Please add your thoughts if you liked the story too. :)
> 
> P.S. I do have some ideas for one or two Mama!Cee and Papa!Ezra one-shots. If I ever get time to write them (!!!), I will link them to this as a series. :)


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